


hold your breath and run

by magnificentbirb



Series: we keep going on [4]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Block B - Ensemble, Bounty Hunters, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, ONEUS - Ensemble, Space Pirates, brief description of panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22262758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnificentbirb/pseuds/magnificentbirb
Summary: The past catches up to the crew of theTreasure.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, OT8 - Relationship
Series: we keep going on [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489547
Comments: 69
Kudos: 281





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> look, it's a plot!
> 
> yes, i'm posting another WIP. 2020 is a year of challenges for me. i have confidence in this one.
> 
> title from "Wonderland," beta'd by my bestie.
> 
> enjoy~!

Hongjoong startles awake to alarms blaring through the halls of the _Treasure_.

“—the hell?” he blurts, tumbling out of bed and onto unsteady feet, still blinking sleep from his eyes. He slides his feet into the slip-ons he keeps beside his bed, throws on the silk robe he bought as a drunken joke when they stopped once at a space colony on Eos, and stumbles for the door, slamming his palm against the pad to slide it open. As soon as he’s in the hall, he hollers, “SEONGHWA!”

“I don’t know what it is either.” Seonghwa appears as if by magic at Hongjoong’s side, dark hair mussed from sleep ( _and a bit longer than usual; it’s starting to hang in his eyes, and that does things to Hongjoong’s heart that he’s forced to ignore due to the blaring alarms_ ), sliding his arms into a cozy-looking sweater. “Let’s see if Yunho is awake.”

“I’d bet my ass everyone is awake, with this racket,” Hongjoong grumbles as they head for the bridge. His nerves are on a knife-edge, heart racing, but he does his best to keep the budding panic from his voice. There’s no use in freaking out before they know what’s going on.

“What the hell is happening?” Wooyoung asks from the doorway of his and San’s room. He’s rubbing his eyes and his hair is pulled up in an untidy little ponytail. San pushes gently past him into the hallway, looking much more alert, his jaw set.

“Will Yunho know?” San asks Hongjoong.

“He’d better,” Hongjoong says.

San and Wooyoung join them on their trek to the bridge to find Jongho and Mingi already there, hovering nervously just behind Yunho, who is typing furiously at the flashing red console.

“What is it?” Hongjoong asks, coming up beside Yunho. He touches Jongho’s tense shoulder as he passes, trying to seem reassuring. He’s not sure it works.

“We’re being tracked.” Yunho glances briefly at Hongjoong; his face is pale. “I can’t tell who it is or how long they’ve been following us, but they’re close now.”

“How close?” asks Seonghwa.

“Less than a hundred klicks,” Yunho says. “And gaining.”

“Could it be a coincidence?” San asks.

“Unlikely,” Yunho says. “Their course has been altering with ours. That’s why they triggered the alarms.”

“D’you think they’re GU?” asks Wooyoung.

“Hard to tell,” Yunho says, squinting at one of the console screens. “The ship doesn’t look standard-issue GU, but it’s not unheard of for certain units to make modifications.”

“What can we do?” Hongjoong asks.

Yunho lets out a breath, running a shaking hand through his unruly hair. “Run? But I’m not sure how long that’ll last. We can keep jumping, but eventually we’ll run out of fuel, and it doesn’t look like that’s thrown them off yet.” Yunho looks up at Hongjoong. “Or we could prepare for them to catch us and hope that we can either fight them off, or that they’re friendly.”

“You really think they could be friendly?” Mingi’s voice is small. Hongjoong glances at him; Mingi’s hand is wrapped around Jongho’s elbow, his knuckles white.

“I doubt it.” That’s Seonghwa, his voice dark as he stares at the slowly approaching ship on their scanners. He glances at Yunho, eyes sharp. “How much fuel do we have?”

“Enough for four, maybe five jumps?”

“Can we get to a refuel station by then?”

“Maybe… there’s a station outside of Messier 81 that we could probably make. It’s usually manned by GU officials, but I think we can avoid them if we need to.”

“The lower levels won’t be manned.” Hongjoong glances back at the doorway to the bridge to see Yeosang standing there, arms crossed, eyes glinting in the darkness. “They haven’t sent enough officers to the Messier stations for ages. We shouldn’t have trouble.”

Seonghwa looks to Hongjoong. “Captain?” he says.

Hongjoong looks around at his crew, each of them varying levels of exhausted and anxious. Mingi is still clutching Jongho’s arm like a lifeline, and San has shifted ever so slightly closer to Wooyoung, their fingers linked. Seonghwa’s jaw is tight with a tension he hasn’t let creep into his voice, but Hongjoong can see it in his shoulders, in the way his right hand flexes at his side. Yunho just looks exhausted, hair mussed and shadows beneath his eyes, and Yeosang’s posture screams defensiveness, his eyes sharp in the gloom.

 _Protect them_ , says the firm, ever-present voice in Hongjoong’s head, and so he decides.

“Make the first jump,” Hongjoong says.

*

None of them sleep that night.

Yunho keeps watch on the bridge, seated in the pilot’s chair, right knee bouncing anxiously as he tracks their progress and that of their pursuers. Hongjoong paces behind him, periodically glancing at the controls, watching as the fuel gauge ticks down, as the blip on the radar creeps closer, so innocuous on the screen yet terrifying in Hongjoong’s imagination. He’s considered, realistically, all of the possibilities of who could be trailing them, and none of them are good. The GU? Less than ideal. Bounty hunters? Also not great. Thieves? Murderers? A rogue ship full of bloodthirsty aliens Hongjoong has never even heard of, who want to skin them alive and gnaw on their insides? All possible, all terrible.

“I can hear you worrying from here.” The voice is Seonghwa’s, soft and impossibly calm. He’s reclined in the copilot’s seat, cradling a steaming mug of herbal tea; Hongjoong can smell it from his pacing route. “There’s nothing to be done right now. Get some rest.”

“You get some rest,” Hongjoong mutters petulantly, but he slumps to the ground beside Seonghwa’s seat, leaning his head against the armrest. Seonghwa settles his hand on Hongjoong’s head, fingers curling gently into Hongjoong’s hair. 

“We’ll be fine,” Seonghwa says quietly.

“I know that,” Hongjoong lies.

“You’re not alone this time,” Seonghwa says, his voice so low that only Hongjoong hears him, and Hongjoong closes his eyes briefly, memories flashing:

 _Panic clawing up his throat, his hands sweating on the controls of his rickety ship, alarms blaring, a voice crackling over a radio, roaring for him to stop the ship, to stop or they’ll fire—_

Seonghwa skates his fingertips softly across Hongjoong’s scalp, and Hongjoong finally feels himself relaxing a bit. He hooks his fingers into the fabric of Seonghwa’s pajama pants, gratitude settling like a tiny sun in his belly, accompanied soon after by a twinge of fear, because as nice as the comfort is, they’re still being chased, they’re still potentially in danger, and _oh god, what would he do without Seonghwa?_

“Stop it,” Seonghwa says, tapping Hongjoong’s head, and Hongjoong sighs.

“Yunho, where are we at?”

“Three leaps from Messier 81.” It’s Yeosang who responds, peering over Yunho’s shoulder at the nav controls. 

“And they’re still trailing us,” Yunho says, brow furrowed. 

Hongjoong makes a move to stand, but Seonghwa presses down on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“How close are they now?” Seonghwa asks.

“A few hundred clicks and gaining,” Yunho says.

“Should we make another jump?” Yeosang asks.

Hongjoong closes his eyes. Seonghwa’s hand is a steadying pressure on his shoulder. He gives Hongjoong’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and Hongjoong opens his eyes.

“Do it.”

*

After the second jump, Hongjoong forces himself to walk the halls of his ship instead of hovering anxiously near his equally as anxious pilot. He lets out a deep breath, his mind solely focused on their pursuers. The mystery is almost worse than if he knew who they were running from. At least if it were, say, the GU, he’d know how to handle them, and he’d feel fine turning to meet them to see what the hell they want. At least they tend to play fair, even if they are irritating.

This, though… There’s no telling what awaits them in that pursuing ship.

Hongjoong would give anything to never find out.

“We jumped again?” Jongho catches Hongjoong at the door of the galley. Hongjoong can see the others inside, Wooyoung looking for a snack in the cabinets, Mingi leaning against San, clearly trying not to fall asleep.

Hongjoong nods. “You’re all good in here?” 

“We’re fine,” Mingi says, lifting his head slightly. “Is that ship still—?”

“They’re still there.”

“They’re going to catch us, aren’t they?” San’s voice is quiet.

Hongjoong is quiet for a moment, meeting San’s gaze. He forgets, sometimes, that San has been living a life on the run at least as long as he has; he knows how this works, knows that sometimes you don’t escape the bad guys, that sometimes shit just catches up with you.

“Probably,” Hongjoong says softly. “But it’ll be fine. We’ll ask what they want, and we’ll see if we can help, and then we’ll both be on our way.”

“That seems overly optimistic even for you, captain,” says Wooyoung, letting a cabinet swing shut.

“Will we need to fight?” Mingi asks.

“I think you should be ready to,” San says, squeezing Mingi’s arm, and Mingi goes slightly pale.

“Don’t worry, hyung. I’ll protect you,” Jongho says, forcing a smile. 

“Let us know if there’s anything you need, Hongjoong,” San says. “We can handle this.”

Hongjoong nods, letting out a slow, even breath. 

“I’ll, uh. I’ll keep you guys updated,” he says, voice a bit choked, and then he retreats into the hall again, hurrying away from the galley, away from the bridge, away from the expectant, nervous gazes of his crew. He can feel something close to panic starting to claw its way up his chest, and he slips into his bedroom, letting the door slide shut behind him. He heads straight to the window, feeling slightly claustrophobic, his breaths coming a bit faster, and rests his forehead against the thick, cool plate glass. He stares for a moment at the expanse of stars before him, half-expecting to see the pursuing ship looming in the distance, but there’s nothing but darkness and far off galaxies.

Hongjoong closes his eyes, trying not to let the panic take over. Memories threaten to filter back in again, flashes of his first desperate flight from authorities all those years ago, but he lets out a deep breath, keeping the anxiety at bay.

He’s not alone this time. He has his crew. They’re all here together, they’re strong, and they’ll all be fine. They have to be.

They _have_ to be.

There’s a light knock on his door, and a soft voice calls his name.

“Hongjoong?”

“It’s open,” Hongjoong says over his shoulder, and he hears the hiss of the door.

“I thought I told you to stop worrying.” Sweater-clad arms wrap around Hongjoong’s waist from behind, and Seonghwa hooks his chin over Hongjoong’s shoulder, his hair soft against Hongjoong’s cheek.

“I don’t think I can,” Hongjoong says, curling his hands around Seonghwa’s wrists and leaning back against him.

“There’s nothing you can do right now,” Seonghwa says. “We’re halfway to Messier, and we’re keeping an eye on the other ship. I can only handle one nervous wreck at a time, okay? Yunho would’ve already had a stress aneurysm if Yeosang wasn’t there to talk him down.”

“Has he gotten any sleep tonight?”

“I don’t think anyone has,” Seonghwa says softly.

Hongjoong sighs. “Can we force them to? Tie them to their beds? Throw them in the brig?”

Seonghwa chuckles quietly. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, can you… can you at least talk me down a bit, please?” Hongjoong’s hands tighten around Seonghwa’s at his waist. “I’m… I could just… I could use some reassurance.”

Seonghwa hugs Hongjoong tighter. 

“You’re not alone,” Seonghwa says again, and it still helps, his voice low and steady. “We’re all here with you. Whatever this is, whoever that is, we’ll get through it together. It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Hongjoong nods, his throat tight, and Seonghwa turns him in his arms, cupping his cheeks.

“We’ll be okay,” he repeats, leaning his forehead against Hongjoong’s, and Hongjoong closes his eyes, praying that it’s true.

*

Seonghwa manages to convince Hongjoong to sleep for about an hour before Yunho calls for him from the bridge, sounding a bit frantic.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Hongjoong asks as he bursts into the bridge, gathering his hair into a haphazard ponytail.

“They’ve locked us,” Yunho says. His hair is sticking up at all angles, mussed from running his hands through it all night, and his eyes are a bit wild for lack of sleep. “We can’t jump again, they’re gonna drag us in.”

“Wait, so—what does that mean? What do we do now?” Mingi asks from the bridge entrance; the galley crew has joined them, looking nervous. “We just wait for them to board?”

“Unfortunately… yeah,” Yunho says. He turns to Hongjoong, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, hyung.”

“It’s not your fault, they were bound to catch up at some point.” Hongjoong stares at the display Yunho has pulled up, a view of the stars behind them and the looming shadow of a large ship in the distance, gradually growing closer. “Have you been able to identify the ship yet?”

“Not yet,” Yunho says, “but it’s definitely not GU. Looks like it might be of Terran design, based on the thrusters, but I can’t be sure until they’re closer.”

“Could it be Martian?” Wooyoung steps up beside Mingi, face pale. 

“It… could be,” Yunho says. “Why?”

Wooyoung glances at San, horror dawning in his eyes.

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong says firmly, trying to ignore the building feeling of foreboding.

“My grandfather…” Wooyoung trails off, clearly nervous, so San steps up beside him, taking his hand.

“His grandfather thinks he was kidnapped,” San says, addressing Hongjoong. “When Wooyoung never came back after he left with me, his grandfather threatened to offer a reward for the return of his heir, so I wouldn’t be surprised if those are Martian bounty hunters on our tail.” San pauses, pressing his lips together; he looks grim, a far cry from the smiling thief Hongjoong has come to know over the past few months. “I’m sorry, Hongjoong. I think they’re after us.”

“Hyung, I’m so sorry,” Wooyoung blurts out. “We can deal with it on our own, we’ll take a shuttle and go meet them—”

“Like hell you will.” Seonghwa steps into the bridge, brow furrowed. “You’re a part of our crew now. We’re not just going to throw you to some bounty hunters to save our own asses. Do you want to go back to your grandfather?”

“No,” Wooyoung says, voice small.

“Then you’re staying here.” Seonghwa turns to Hongjoong. “You ready to meet them?”

“Doesn’t really matter whether I’m ready, does it?” Hongjoong says, forcing what he hopes is a confident, rakish smile. It must look all right, because Seonghwa’s lips quirk into a small answering smile. “We should prepare for the worst for now,” Hongjoong says, addressing the rest of his crew; they’re all on the bridge, now, watching him with expressions that vary from extremely anxious to quietly determined. “If these are really bounty hunters who’ve tracked us down, then we’re not letting Wooyoung and San go with them—”

“Oh, I highly doubt Wooyoung’s grandfather wants me captured alive,” San says with a dark smile. 

“Even more reason to defend ourselves, then,” Hongjoong says, ignoring the sudden punch of dread that statement dredges up in his belly. “I want you each to arm yourselves before they get here. We don’t have a huge armory on this ship, but there should be enough there for us to work with. And…” He pauses momentarily, because he knows this next part will probably piss them off, but he continues with as strong a voice as he can: “If you’re not me or Seonghwa, then I don’t want you anywhere near the entrance when they dock.”

“What?” Yeosang blurts from across the bridge. 

“Absolutely not,” San says.

“Hyung, that’s bullshit—” says Yunho.

“We’re not leaving you two to face them alone,” Jongho says from near the entrance of the bridge. 

“Joong.” That’s Seonghwa, voice quiet. Hongjoong glances at him, and Seonghwa shakes his head minutely. 

“Look, it’s a nice thought,” Yeosang says, “but we’re in this together. I’m not hiding from some stupid bounty hunters who want to re-kidnap one of my friends. We’ll all be there to meet them.”

Hongjoong sighs, closing his eyes briefly. He knew they wouldn’t go for it, but he had to try. He loves his crew, and he’s terrified for them, terrified that they’ll get hurt, that they seem to trust him so much. He’s supposed to _protect_ them.

“Fine,” he says, and then, after he takes a moment to collect himself, “Thank you. Yunho, how long do we have until they fully catch up to us?”

“An hour? Maybe two?”

“All right.” Hongjoong draws himself up to his full height and lifts his chin. “Yunho, keep us updated on their coordinates. I want everyone to get some rest for now, but in an hour, I need you all to be ready.” He looks around the bridge, meeting the eye of each member of his crew. “Prepare to be boarded.”

*

They meet them in the long hallway leading to the airlock. The crew of the _Treasure_ is silent as they listen to the ship outside dock itself to theirs, the slow, mechanical whirring of ramps locking into place, the soft hiss of airtight seals engaging, the gentle whoosh of the door opening as the bounty hunters finally enter the _Treasure_.

The bounty hunters are all in black, wearing wide, heavy hoods and full masks over their faces. It gives them an eerie look, with dark, shining lenses hiding their eyes and mesh where their mouths should be. They look mostly humanoid, but Hongjoong catches sight of a slowly lashing scaly tail behind one of them ( _Kvekian?_ ), and another clearly has a chrome-plated cybernetic hand.

“It’s about time we caught up to you,” says one of the smaller humanoid men, standing in the middle. “You know we’ve been trailing you for weeks now?” His hair is dark and spiky beneath his hood, and Hongjoong catches a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck, something vaguely animal-like, delicate lines forming a shape like bat wings. “I figure since this has been so long coming on our end, I’ll just skip straight to business: Are you aware that you’re harboring fugitives on this ship?”

Hongjoong’s heart drops in dismay, but he forces his face to remain uninterested.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “The only people on this ship are my crew.”

The tattooed man cocks his head slightly, and Hongjoong can imagine the mocking smile beneath that mask.

“You don’t say,” the man says. “We’re after a kidnapper and his hostage, and a hybrid contract fighter who broke his contract. Any of that sound familiar?”

 _Hybrid?_ Hongjoong forces himself not to clench, but he wants nothing more than to meet Jongho’s eye, to hide him and Wooyoung and San as far away from these men as possible.

“No,” Hongjoong says. “Now I’ll kindly ask you to get off my ship.”

“Listen, _captain_ ,” says the tattooed man. “We’re just trying to do our duties as law abiding members of galactic society. Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

“I see,” Seonghwa says with a cool glare. “And how big is the bounty for these fugitives you’re after, for the good of society?”

Hongjoong can’t see the tattooed man’s eyes, but he can feel that masked gaze shift languidly over to Seonghwa, and it makes his skin crawl. Hongjoong quickly squashes the urge to shift protectively in front of his first mate; Seonghwa can look out for himself. 

“It’s enough,” says the masked man.

“Taeil, we don’t have time for this,” murmurs the humanoid with the tail, voice muffled. The masked man—Taeil—holds up a heavily tattooed hand to silence him, and the Kvekian backs off, bowing his head.

“I’ll ask one more time,” Taeil says, and his voice is harder now, less playful, “for you to kindly hand over the fugitives in your crew, so that no one needs to get hurt.”

“And I’ll ask _you_ one more time to kindly get the fuck off my ship,” Hongjoong says, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We’re done here.”

The mask hides any change in Taeil’s expression, but Hongjoong can see his shoulders tense.

“U-Kwon, Jaehyo,” Taeil says quietly; the Kvekian and the tall Terran with the cybernetic hand step forward slightly. “You two grab the Martian kid. P.O, Minhyuk, Kyung, and I will handle the rest and go for the fighter. I’m done talking. Let’s move.”

“Listen—” Hongjoong snaps, furious at being ignored, but then one of the taller bounty hunters— _was he the one who moved when Taeil said “P.O”?_ —lunges forward, knocking Hongjoong aside like he weighs nothing, and the hallway descends into chaos.

Jongho and San slip into the fight like they’re born to it ( _which they quite possibly were, a thought that makes Hongjoong’s heart hurt a bit_ ). The tall bounty hunter tries to grab San and gets a fist to the jaw and a boot to the gut for his troubles, forcing him to his knees. San punches him again, knocking the hood from his head and revealing a shock of white-blond hair, tugged into a few messy knots at the back of his head.

Jongho, meanwhile, catches a punch from Taeil and twists his arm at an unnatural angle, eliciting a rough cry of pain. The bounty hunter manages to break away, but he doesn’t try for Jongho alone again; he and another Terran, this one with messy brown hair sticking out from his hood, attack the contract fighter together.

Another of the masked men—slighter than some of the others, with dull red curls visible beneath his dark hood—throws a wild punch at Hongjoong, who manages to duck the blow and return one of his own, a fist straight to the ribs. It _hurts_ ( _fuck, did he break his knuckles?_ ), but it’s enough to distract the red-headed bounty hunter for a second as Hongjoong tries to take in the rest of his crew. He catches a glimpse of Seonghwa lifting a blaster as another of the bounty hunters lunges for him; Yeosang has a stun baton in hand, eyes narrowed; and Yunho and even Mingi are already throwing punches as bounty hunters descend on them, aiming for Wooyoung.

Before Hongjoong can move to help his crew, something smashes into the back of his head, and his vision grays out. His ears start to ring so loudly that he thinks distantly, vaguely, he might now be deaf. The grated metal of the walkway digs into his cheek and the palms of his hands. He doesn’t remember falling. He blinks, and the world comes back slowly, laboriously. He breathes in; it’s harder than it should be. Footsteps shudder around him. Voices call out, many familiar, others not. A face swims into his vision—blood on pale skin and dark hair, a sight that automatically ignites panic in Hongjoong’s gut—and a familiar voice says over the ringing, “Hongjoong, _get up_ ,” but everything is slow, as though Hongjoong’s entire world is submerged in deep water.

Hands grip him beneath his arms and tug him up to his knees. That familiar face is right in front of him now, elegant brow creased with concern.

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong says, or at least he tries to; it comes out more as a vague murmur. There’s something warm trickling down the back of his neck. That can’t be good.

“We need you, captain,” Seonghwa says, his voice echoey and distant through the ringing in Hongjoong’s ears. His hands cup Hongjoong’s cheeks, warm, skin on skin. “Stay with us. C’mon.”

And then he stands, leaving Hongjoong alone on his knees. A heady combination of terror and adrenaline sets in as soon as Seonghwa is out of sight, and the rest of the world filters in pretty quickly after that.

The masked man with the cybernetic hand has Yunho in a chokehold, and the Kvekian is struggling with Jongho; even as Hongjoong watches, Jongho heaves the Kvekian over his shoulder, smashing him onto the metal grate. Near the airlock, San slips under the reach of the white-blond humanoid and slams a hand into the guy’s throat, making him choke. Yeosang fires a shot at the cyborg holding onto Yunho, making him stagger back, and Yunho yanks himself free just in time to land a kick on the brown-haired Terran man attempting to grab Mingi from behind.

The fight is a whirlwind of fists on flesh and muffled cries of pain. Hongjoong staggers to his feet, trying to follow the chaos, but it comes only in flashes: a blaster shot striking the curly-haired masked Terran in the knee, Yeosang taking a hard blow to the cheek, Seonghwa’s blood-streaked face, the Kvekian whipping out a large syringe— 

_Wait… a syringe?_

“Just grab the marks,” hollers one of the masked men—the leader, Taeil—voice slightly muffled by the mesh over his mouth. At his order, the other bounty hunters start breaking away from the members of the _Treasure_ crew, except for— 

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong yells, as a few of the masked men lunge for Wooyoung, clearly targeting him. Another few attackers go for Jongho, although a bit more hesitantly, many of them already bleeding thanks to him.

“ _Wooyoung!_ ” San shoves past Hongjoong, running for Wooyoung, and then the leader steps forward, a nasty looking blaster raised and fully charged, glowing a lethal red.

“Chairman Jung sends his regards,” he says, his smirk audible, and then the gun fires, a sharp _zzt_ cutting through the din of the scuffle.

It’s strange, how everything seems to stop for a moment as San teeters, eyes wide, and then crumples to the floor, the wound on his chest smoking.

Wooyoung _screams_.

“ _SAN!_ ”

“Grab him!” Two of the bounty hunters descend on Wooyoung, dragging him back and away from the fray, towards the airlock and their ship. 

“ _NO!_ ” Wooyoung roars, trying to wrench away from his captors, his eyes fixed on San. “Let me— _go_ — _SAN!_ ”

Wooyoung’s cries are cut off as the cyborg slides a gag between his lips and yanks his head back. Wooyoung strains against it desperately, writhing in his captors’ grips, but their hold doesn’t break.

Jongho shoves away from one of the men he was struggling with, slamming his elbow into the face of the curly-haired man grappling him from behind, then sweeps the legs out from under the brunette man trying to hold him back. He and Yunho race for Wooyoung and are met with the white-blond bounty hunter, who lands a solid kick to Yunho’s stomach, knocking him to the floor, before Jongho tackles him to the ground.

Hongjoong, meanwhile, crawls over to San’s side, his heart in his throat.

 _Don’t be dead_ , he thinks, desperately. _Don’t be dead, don’t be dead—_

Mingi is already beside San, his hands hovering nervously over him, as though he’s afraid to do any more damage. He looks up at Hongjoong with tears in his eyes; a cut on his cheek bleeds sluggishly.

“Hyung, I—”

“He’ll be fine,” Hongjoong says. “He has to be fine.” His voice is shaking, and he might be lying, but that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that San is still conscious, if only barely, and _breathing_ , which is even more important. Hongjoong grabs San’s hand as tightly as he can, and San glances at him, bleary eyed and pale. 

“W-wooyou—” His voice breaks, rattling in his throat, and Hongjoong’s heart seizes in panic.

“We’ll get him,” he insists, hoping that he sounds convincing. “And you’ll be okay, you hear me? You’re going to be fine.”

“Captain, get Wooyoung.” Yeosang falls to his knees beside Hongjoong, eyes alight and focused on San’s wound. “I’ll take care of San.”

Hongjoong claps a hand on Yeosang’s shoulder and, after one more helpless look at San, his heart in his throat, lurches to his feet just in time to see one of Wooyoung’s captors—the Kvekian—stab a needle into the still-struggling Wooyoung’s neck. Wooyoung’s eyes go wide, and he chokes behind his gag.

“ _NO!_ ” Hongjoong lunges for Wooyoung, but one of the masked men grabs him from behind before he can get close, locking an arm around Hongjoong’s throat and yanking him away. Hongjoong tries desperately to buck off his attacker, slamming an elbow into the man’s side, into his stomach, kicking back at the man’s legs, but the man’s hold stays firm.

“ _WOOYOUNG!_ ” Hongjoong’s scream is half-choked, but it’s enough to get Mingi onto his feet just as Wooyoung sags in his captors’ arms, eyes rolling back as whatever they dosed him with takes hold. Mingi makes a bolt for him, but it’s too little too late—the cyborg scoops Wooyoung into his arms and disappears through the airlock and into their ship, covered by his Kvekian comrade, who lifts a blaster, aiming at Mingi.

“Mingi!” That’s Yunho, who snags the back of Mingi’s shirt and tugs him down just as another shot hisses through the air, right where Mingi’s head was moments earlier.

Hongjoong hears another shot, and then the arm around his neck jerks for a second before going limp, the bounty hunter—the brunette Terran, apparently—collapsing to the floor. A strong hand grips Hongjoong’s arm, and Hongjoong whirls, ready to throw a punch, but he stops himself just in time: it’s Seonghwa, blaster in hand and still smoking.

“You okay?” Seonghwa asks, eyes darting over to where the others are still fighting.

“Wooyoung—” is all Hongjoong manages, his voice rough and still slightly choked.

“I know.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s arm. “We’ll get him.”

“Just fucking _drug him_!” roars the leader’s voice, and Hongjoong’s attention is dragged back to Jongho’s struggle on the floor, now with three of the bounty hunters, since the Kvekian has rejoined the fray. Yunho snags a blaster somewhere off to Hongjoong’s right and manages to catch one of Jongho’s attackers in the shoulder; the curly-haired man topples over with a pained cry. Jongho throws another of his attackers off, slamming a heel into the white-blond man’s masked chin and sending him staggering, but then the Kvekian, just behind Jongho, produces a large syringe from a pocket somewhere and slams it into the meat of Jongho’s thigh.

The Kvekian collapses with a grunt soon after, caught by one of Seonghwa’s shots, and Jongho yanks the syringe out of his leg, whipping it down the hall, but the drugs work fast; he starts to wobble on his feet.

Hongjoong sprints for him, ducking under Jongho’s arm just in time to keep him from stumbling into a wall. “C’mon, kid, let’s get you out of here.” 

“But—” Jongho slurs, trying to shake his head to clear it, but Hongjoong is already staggering down the hall, hoping desperately the rest of his crew can cover them.

“Oh, captain!” A mocking voice sings out through the hallway, echoing off the metal. Hongjoong freezes, glancing over his shoulder, and his stomach sinks.

The leader—Taeil—has removed his mask, and Hongjoong can see his smirking, bloody face now, his right-eye an unsettling blue, his left dark and gleaming. What makes Hongjoong sick, though, is the large gun he has pointed at Seonghwa’s head. Seonghwa kneels in front of him, unarmed and clutching what looks like a broken hand to his chest, blood running down his face, eyes livid. Yunho and Yeosang are similarly held at gunpoint by bloodied, panting bounty hunters, and Mingi is being held in a strong chokehold by the Kvekian. 

“Look, captain,” Taeil continues, his voice light, curdling Hongjoong’s blood, “I never actually wanted a fight. I asked you nicely to give me what I came for, and it’s only because you refused that this bloodshed had to happen. A tragedy, really.” He glances at San’s motionless form with a smirk, and Hongjoong can feel his vision tunneling, he’s so angry. “But I’m tired of fighting, and so are my men, so I have another, last, proposition for you.” Taeil raises his free hand, pointing at Jongho. “That boy has one of the highest bounties in this system on his head. If you give him up willingly, then we’ll let the rest of your ragtag little crew go without any more harm. If not…” Taeil trails off, but presses the gun firmly to Seonghwa’s temple, forcing his head back. “Do we have an agreement?”

“You _motherfu_ —”

“ _Hyung._ ” Jongho’s voice is weak as he interrupts Hongjoong, but his eyes are still clear as he glares at Taeil, cheeks flushed and streaked with blood. “Let me go with them.”

“What? No fucking way,” Hongjoong says. “We can fight them, we still—”

“Hyung,” Jongho pleads. “I’m the one who ran away. They’re here for me. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt for my sake.”

“That’s not—” Hongjoong breaks off, glaring at Taeil, who’s watching them argue quietly with apparent glee, his gun still far too close to Seonghwa’s head. “That’s not how this works. You’re my crew now, just like San and Wooyoung are. We face our shit together, and we protect each other, we don’t—”

“That’s exactly what I’d be doing, though,” Jongho says. “Protecting you. And I can protect Wooyoung-hyung, if I go with them. Hyung, _please_.” 

Hongjoong’s heart races. He hates that he can see the logic in Jongho’s argument, hates that they’re outnumbered now ( _god, San can’t be dead, right?_ ) and outfought and _tired_ and _hurt_ and _separated_ , but he hates even more the idea of letting Jongho—their youngest, their strongest, their quiet, stolid protector—sacrifice himself, and he shakes his head frantically, because no, _no_ , he can’t let Jongho do this, he can’t—

“No—” he says, but it’s all he gets to say before Jongho jerks out of his grasp and lands a solid punch on Hongjoong’s jaw, sending him sprawling.

“I’m sorry, captain,” he hears, distantly, as the world darkens around him again, and the last thing he hears is shuffling footsteps and a strong voice saying, “I’ll go,” before everything fades to black.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i know that Taeil isn't the leader of Block B but let me have this pls.
> 
> and if you're wondering which member is which, then look no further than the styling for Nillili Mambo, the best song of 2012 and the reason the speakers rattled in my last car.)


	2. Chapter 2

Jongho wakes slowly, blinking his bleary way into consciousness. His head hurts, and his mouth is dry, and his shoulders feel cramped, twisted. He lets out a groan, his voice strangely muffled; he realizes after a hazy moment of confusion that this is due to a thick cloth gag, tied into a tight knot at the back of his neck. He frowns as he blinks his eyes open, contorting his face enough to register the uncomfortable sensation of dried blood cracking on his skin, smeared across his forehead and down the side of his face.

Jongho jerks, trying to move, to lift his hands to remove the gag, but his wrists are bound behind his back, and his shoulders scream in protest at the sudden movement.

“Mmrph!” His roar of frustration comes out much feebler than intended. He still feels a bit woozy, probably an after-effect of the drugs. He barely remembers his last few moments before losing consciousness: knocking out Hongjoong; stepping past a disbelieving Seonghwa, still on his knees at gunpoint; glancing back at San, lying too still on the floor, a bloody and livid Yeosang kneeling at his side; and then the tall blond bounty hunter taking Jongho’s arm roughly and jerking him through the airlock and into the other ship, after which everything became a bit of a blur until Jongho found himself heaved into a dark cell, bars clanging behind him, and the fuzzy darkness of the drugs finally won.

Jongho closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. He opens his eyes again to take account of his surroundings. The cell he’s in is dark, but not pitch black; weak halogen lights flicker near the ceiling, casting the small cell block in a dingy amber glow. The bars of the cell are roughly hewn metal, but they look solid, too thick for even Jongho to break. He’s alone in his cell, sprawled on the cold metal floor, but he sees a motionless shadowy lump in the cell across from his, and he knows as soon as he catches sight of a shock of silvery hair that it’s Wooyoung.

 _Okay_ , he thinks. _Okay, this isn’t as bad as it could be. We’re together. That’s better than nothing._

Jongho curls his hands so he can touch the bonds around his wrists. They feel cool and metallic, and Jongho breathes a small sigh of relief. He can break these.

_A hybrid contract fighter who broke his contract._

The lead bounty hunter’s voice comes to Jongho in a flash of memory. Jongho cringes slightly, remembering how Hongjoong’s shoulders tensed as soon as he heard that word: _Hybrid._

It’s a word Jongho has been trying to run from for years now, ever since he was left all alone on Elgor with nothing but the clothes on his back and a forged birth certificate on his worn old handheld, given to him by the lady at the orphanage when she dropped him at the fighting pits.

“ _Don’t let them know_ ,” she said to him before she left. “ _They might suspect, based on your strength alone, but you should never let them know. It will change things._ ”

And so Jongho didn’t. He’s kept his mother’s secret to this day ( _even though he doesn’t remember her; the women at the orphanage said she died when he was far too young_ ), and although he’s been questioned on his strength before, not once has he ever admitted to his half-Adrastean heritage. Adrasteans are rarely seen anywhere other than their home moon, but they are known to be formidable warriors. The GU once tried to force Adrastea into becoming a subservient member of the Union, but the ambassadors they sent were never heard from again, and Adrastea remains independent even now.

Jongho saw another Adrastean only once before, while he was still training at the fighting pits. The humanoid had been stocky and tall, with skin paler than a Terran’s (little to no starlight makes its way to Adrastea) and eyes darker than pitch. Jongho, barely twelve years old at the time, never approached the Adrastean. Instead, he watched the Adrastean’s fight from afar, and shuddered at the carnage he saw.

So Jongho resolved never to let anyone know about his mysterious father, and it was a relief when his new crew never asked, but now…

_Hybrid._

Well. Jongho will just have to deal with it when he gets back to them.

With a grunt, he tugs his arms apart behind his back and hears the satisfying _snap_ of metal links breaking. The gag is next to come off, cuffs dangling from his wrists as he fumbles with the knot at the back of his head, and then he’s free.

“Wooyoung-hyung,” he hisses, voice rough from disuse. He wonders how long they’ve been on this ship. How far away is the _Treasure_ now? Are they coming after them? Is Hongjoong still angry with him? Is Seonghwa? Did the rest of the crew make it out unharmed, as the bounty hunters promised? Is San okay, or did he—?

Jongho forcibly shakes that thought from his head and crawls quietly to the front of his cell, as close to Wooyoung as he can get.

“Wooyoung!” he hisses again.

The shadowy lump in the other cell shifts slightly, groaning.

“That’s it,” Jongho says, as tension he didn’t even realize he was carrying relaxes suddenly into relief. “Wake up, hyung. Come on.” 

Wooyoung is moving, which means he’s alive, which means Jongho isn’t alone and his whole noble sacrifice wasn’t in vain. It means that he can protect Wooyoung, at least. He’ll get them both out of this.

Wooyoung shifts again, letting out a muffled sound that might have been Jongho’s name. Jongho squints through the dim light and sees that Wooyoung is similarly bound and gagged, his brow furrowed in pain.

“Are you injured?” Jongho asks.

Wooyoung shakes his head weakly and opens his eyes; Jongho sees the glint from across the cell block.

“Can you reach your gag, do you think?” Jongho asks. 

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut, face scrunching, and then nods. Jongho watches anxiously as Wooyoung carefully curls on the ground, and manages to work his bound hands beneath his legs and in front of himself. From there, it’s easy for him to shift the gag from his lips, letting it fall around his neck.

“You okay?” Wooyoung asks, raspy.

“A bit sore, but I’m fine,” Jongho says.

“What happened to the others?” Wooyoung asks. “Are they—?”

“They were safe when I left them,” Jongho says. “Although…” He breaks off, picturing San lying on the ground, pale and still.

“Sani,” Wooyoung says quietly. “Is he… was he alive?”

Jongho doesn’t respond immediately. He knows he saw San moving at one point after he was shot, knows he saw Yeosang huddled over him, hands working frantically, but by the time Jongho was taken away from the _Treasure_ , San wasn’t moving and Yeosang was being held at gunpoint, unable to help.

“I—I don’t know,” Jongho responds softly, honestly, his throat tight.

Wooyoung is silent. He closes his eyes, and Jongho can’t bear the despair on his face.

“Yeosang was with him,” Jongho says, desperate to reassure Wooyoung, to ease that look of utter emptiness. “If anyone can save San, it’s him. You know that. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Wooyoung shakes his head slowly.

“No,” he whispers, barely loud enough for Jongho can hear him. “No, I saw it. It was a direct hit. No one could’ve—”

“Stop it,” Jongho snaps, louder than intended. “You don’t know that. He’s alive until we know any different, all right?”

Wooyoung takes in a shaky breath and curls in on himself, hiding his face against his knees.

“What—what should we do?” he asks, voice trembling.

“I don’t know yet.” Jongho glances around the dimly lit room, trying to find anything that could help them in an escape attempt. “But we’ll find a way out of here, hyung. I promise.”

*

Hongjoong wakes to darkness. 

Low beeping echoes through the room. His head feels thick and fuzzy, and he lifts a hand to his temple to find a crown of bandages. He opens his eyes to find himself in the med-bay, dimly lit and quiet. With a low groan, he turns his head to look around the room and finds that the other cot is also occupied. Hongjoong’s throat clenches.

“San,” Hongjoong murmurs, struggling to sit up.

The door to the med-bay slides open with a hiss, and Hongjoong finds himself being pushed gently back down onto the cot. 

“Easy there, captain,” Yeosang says. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” Hongjoong croaked. “How’d you know I was awake?”

“Motion sensors.” Yeosang leans over, peering carefully into Hongjoong’s eyes. “Do you feel dizzy? You took quite a hit from one of those bounty hunters even before Jongho—”

“Jongho.” Hongjoong’s eyes snap wide open, and he flails out, grabbing Yeosang by the collar and tugging him close. “Where’s Jongho? And Wooyoung? Did you stop them? Are they—?”

“Captain.” Yeosang gently pries Hongjoong’s fingers from his shirt. “Calm down.”

Hongjoong’s breaths come in shallow, gulping gasps, and he can feel himself starting to panic, unable to properly catch his breath, his heart racing. 

“We have to go back,” he says, trying to force himself upright again. “We have to save them, we can’t—I have to—”

“ _Hongjoong._ ” Yeosang grabs Hongjoong’s shoulders to hold him steady. “There’s nothing you can do right now. They’re gone, and we’re going to get them back, but for now, I need you to stay calm. Okay? I can’t handle any more panic attacks on this ship.”

“Any more—?” 

Yeosang sighs, pressing Hongjoong back onto the cot. “Mingi isn’t really used to fighting, is he?”

“No.” Hongjoong’s heart hurts as he thinks of Mingi, cheerful and sweet and as far from violent as they come. “No, he isn’t. Is he—?”

“He’s doing okay now,” Yeosang says. “Seonghwa finally got him to sleep a few hours ago. I think he’s been out ever since.”

“How are the rest of the crew? How’s—?” Hongjoong’s head turns immediately to the other cot, where he can see San resting beneath a thin blanket, seemingly still unconscious, monitors and IVs draped over his bed.

“He’ll be all right.” Yeosang looks exhausted as he glances over at San’s bed, his eyes sadder, older, than Hongjoong has seen them before. “He’s stable, but he needs time to recover. He woke up a little while ago, actually, but I had to sedate him again to keep him from stealing a shuttle and going after Wooyoung himself.”

“ _God._ ” Hongjoong scrubs a hand over his face, his throat tight. “How long has it been since we lost them?”

“About six hours.”

 _Too long_ , Hongjoong thinks, and he wants nothing more than to get out of this bed and run to the bridge and start their pursuit, but he thinks Yeosang might tackle him if he tries to get up again, so instead he asks, “Where is everyone?”

“Mingi’s asleep in his room,” Yeosang says, “and Seonghwa and Yunho are on the bridge. And… that’s all of us, captain. For now.”

Those words hit Hongjoong like a fist to the gut.

_That’s all of us._

Hongjoong squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forearm to his eyes, willing away the tears he can feel clamoring for release. 

“Do we have any way of tracking that ship?” he asks, once he’s sure his voice won’t break.

“Actually,” Yeosang says, sounding oddly proud, “we do.”

Hongjoong peers up at Yeosang from beneath his arm.

“One of the blasters I gave to Yunho was modified,” Yeosang explains. “It shoots like a blaster and feels like a blaster when it hits you, but instead of just transferring bolts of power with every shot, it also injects nanotrackers into whatever it hits.” Yeosang shrugs. “I figured it’d be useful, so now we’re able to track at least two of the bounty hunters, even after they’ve jumped.”

“God, I’m glad we have you,” Hongjoong says, closing his eyes again as something a little like hope worms its way into his chest. “Have I told you that before? I’m telling you again.”

“You have, captain,” Yeosang says with a soft smile, patting Hongjoong’s shoulder. “And I’m glad I’m here, too.”

“Yunho has the coordinates, then?”

“We’ve been following them ever since they undocked from us. At a distance, of course.” Yeosang glances over at San. “We couldn’t exactly go up against them with two of us out of commission, including one of the only real fighters we have left, so Seonghwa decided that we should bide our time for now. Wait for the right opportunity to strike.”

Hongjoong nods tiredly. “Yeah, that… that’s probably for the best.” He lowers his arm to the side with a sigh. “Thanks, Yeosang. Really.”

“Get some rest, captain. I’ll be back to check on you both in a bit.” Yeosang squeezes Hongjoong’s shoulder, then leaves the med-bay, the door sliding quietly shut behind him.

Hongjoong debates for a moment just going back to sleep, because his head is _really_ starting to ache, but his mind refuses to stop racing. He keeps thinking back to the fight, keeps thinking about what they could have done differently, how he could have moved faster, planned better, actually kept his crew—all of them— _safe_.

At that thought, Hongjoong glances to the side again, his gaze drawn to San. Hongjoong sits up, wincing at the way his head throbs over the change in orientation, and slips quietly out of bed and over to San’s side. The floor is chilly against his bare feet; he wishes vaguely that Yunho had nested in this room, too. It could use a gaudy rug.

Hongjoong’s heart lodges in his throat as he stands over San, watching the gentle rise and fall of San’s chest. He gingerly brushes some hair back from San’s forehead ( _and god, but it’s strange when San doesn’t respond; he’s normally so tactile, always leaning into gentle touches or giving his own_ ), then lifts the blanket carefully from San’s chest, revealing neatly wrapped bandages covering his chest. Yeosang did a wonderful job, of course; the bandages are clean and even and thorough and Hongjoong _hates_ them, hates that San got hurt and almost died and Hongjoong should have been able to _prevent it_ — 

They’ve been lucky, in the year or so since they all started their travels on the _Treasure_. Aside from Seonghwa’s close call a while ago ( _and Hongjoong thanks Wooyoung and Yeosang for that save every damn day_ ) and now San’s injury, they’ve managed to keep themselves pretty well in one piece even in their worst scrapes. Yeosang’s main duties as official medical officer have mostly been keeping the crew from spreading the flu to one another and making sure they’re all up to date on their immunizations any time they visit a new star system. They’ve been lucky. So, so lucky.

Hongjoong should have known that luck would wear out eventually. 

It always does.

“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong whispers, resting his hand on San’s head. He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m so—”

“...joong?” 

Hongjoong startles; San’s eyes are just barely open, squinting blearily up at him. 

“Hey,” Hongjoong breathes. His fingers curl gently into San’s hair, and his other hand finds San’s wrist beneath the blanket, gripping it tight. “You okay? How’re you feeling?”

“Sore.” San’s voice is rough, even weaker than Hongjoong’s. “How long…?”

“About six hours, give or take,” Hongjoong says. “Although Yeosang said you woke up once before, right? I’m not sure how long it’s been since then.”

San lets out a low, tremulous breath, eyes drifting shut again.

“I assume I’m still not allowed out of the med-bay?” he says.

“Not like this you’re not,” Hongjoong says. “And I’m with Yeosang on that. We already almost lost—” Hongjoong’s voice cracks, and he clears his throat quickly before continuing, “We already almost lost you once. We’re not doing that again. Wooyoung would kill me if he came back to the ship only to find out that you keeled over trying to rescue him.”

“He already thinks I’m dead.” San’s voice is emotionless, carefully so. 

Hongjoong squeezes San’s wrist. “Maybe. But you’re not. And he’s not. The bounty hunters won’t kill him, they needed him alive.”

“They won’t kill either of them,” comes a gentle voice from the doorway, and Hongjoong’s head snaps around so he can watch Seonghwa enter the med-bay, his hair still a bit damp from a recent shower, his face drawn and pale but still somehow the most beautiful sight Hongjoong has ever seen. There’s a scabbed-over cut high on his forehead and some bruising around his mouth and jaw, and his right hand is bandaged and braced, but overall, he looks okay. The image of Seonghwa on his knees with a gun pressed to his temple flashes briefly, terribly, in Hongjoong’s mind, but he shoves it away. Nothing happened. Seonghwa is fine, and here, and very much alive.

It’s fine.

“I had Yeosang look up the bounties on Wooyoung and Jongho right after they were taken,” Seonghwa says, stepping up to San’s bedside. He smiles softly down at San, resting his good hand on San’s shoulder. “They’re wanted alive. Yours was the only bounty that specified that you were wanted dead.”

“Lucky me,” San rasps.

Seonghwa’s sharp gaze lifts to Hongjoong. “How’re you doing, captain?”

“A little better now,” Hongjoong says, which isn’t quite true, physically, because his head still really fucking hurts, but his first mate is here, and San is awake and making bad jokes, and they have a way of tracking the bounty hunters, and they’re going to get their crew back, so honestly, it could be worse.

“How far away are the bounty hunters now?” Hongjoong asks.

If Seonghwa is surprised that Hongjoong already knows about the trackers, he doesn’t show it. “About four hundred klicks. We’re keeping a close eye on them.”

“Do we have an action plan yet?”

“Not yet, no.” Seonghwa’s brow creases. “We’ve been waiting until you two were a bit more recovered.”

Hongjoong nods and immediately regrets it, gritting his teeth against a wave of pain.

“Lie down, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says, firm. “We’ll keep you informed of the bounty hunters’ whereabouts, but you also need to heal. Both of you.” Seonghwa runs a gentle hand through San’s hair; San’s eyes close briefly. “Get some more rest, okay? We won’t let you sleep for too long, I promise.”

“And I’m guessing I wouldn’t be allowed to do that sleeping in the bridge with you?” Hongjoong asks.

“Doctor’s orders,” Seonghwa says with a slight smile. “I don’t want to fight Yeosang, do you?”

Hongjoong sighs and squeezes San’s hand one last time before trudging back to his own bed.

“Fine,” he says, climbing gingerly onto the bed, “but no more than an hour or so, okay? And then you update me.”

“Yes, sir,” comes Seonghwa’s quiet, amused reply. “Now sleep. Both of you.”

And then it goes quiet again, but Hongjoong knows that Seonghwa is still there, watching over them, waiting for them to fall asleep. Hongjoong forces his eyes closed, his head still throbbing dully, but his heart won’t settle, because there’s _hope_ now. They have a trajectory. They’re all alive. And soon they’ll have a plan.

 _We’ll get them back_ , Hongjoong thinks, jittery, his hands clenching into fists beneath the sheets.

_We’re going to get them back._

*

Wooyoung loses track of how many hours he’s been in this cell.

Jongho tried for a while to distract him with conversation, snippets of hopeless escape plans and theories of what the rest of the crew were up to right at that moment, but that was hours ago. It’s quiet now, and when Wooyoung glances at the cell across the way, he sees Jongho slumped against the bars of the cell, fallen into what looks like a fitful sleep.

Wooyoung can’t sleep.

He keeps replaying that moment in his head: the sharp _szzt_ of the blaster, the way San’s entire body jerked when the shot struck him in the chest, the way his eyes widened with shock even as he crumpled to the floor. 

Wooyoung watches it happen over and over again as though in slow motion, his throat clenched, heart twisting. It was a direct hit, it should have been a death sentence, but Wooyoung remembers seeing Hongjoong and Mingi and Yeosang all crouched beside San afterwards, remembers seeing Yeosang bent over him, dependable hands working, so maybe… _maybe_ … 

Wooyoung tugs his knees closer to his chest and buries his head in his arms.

Hope is dangerous. He learned that long ago, when his grandmother was in the hospital, and even before that, when his parents went missing for so long, never to return.

_Hope is dangerous, and everyone leaves him in the end._

The door to the brig slams open, startling Wooyoung. Jongho lurches awake across from him, handcuffs clattering against the cell bars. 

“Shit,” Jongho hisses, still blinking sleep from his eyes, shoving his hands behind his back like he’s still cuffed.

“—if he punches me?” comes a voice from the doorway, deep and wavering, echoing hollow against the metallic walls.

“He’s cuffed and behind bars, you ninny,” responds another voice, heavily accented. “He can’t punch you.”

Two of the bounty hunters come into view: the Kvekian, still clad in a dark hood and mask, tail lashing behind him, and the tall white-blond humanoid, unmasked, hair pulled back into multiple messy buns at the back of his head.

“You sure about that?” says the blond bounty hunter, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Jongho.

The Kvekian ignores him and sets down two small boxes, one outside each cell, then nudges each one through the bars with his foot. “Don’t need you two starving on the way back.”

“And how do you expect us to eat?” Jongho says.

“You already broke your cuffs, I think you’ll be fine,” says the Kvekian.

Jongho opens his mouth to argue, then just sighs and tugs the box towards himself, broken cuffs dangling from his wrists. 

“U-Kwon, you said he was cuffed,” the blond bounty hunter hisses, taking a step away from Jongho’s cell.

“I thought he was, before we walked in,” the Kvekian— _U-Kwon?_ —says with a shrug. He turns to Wooyoung then, his eyes still hidden behind shining black lenses, impenetrable. “I’d recommend you eat that. We didn’t do anything to it. The client wants you alive and unharmed.”

Wooyoung says nothing. He doesn’t even look at the box.

“Look, kid,” says U-Kwon, “this doesn’t have to be as bad as you’re making it. Your grandfather just wants you home.”

“You killed San.” Wooyoung’s voice is quiet, but harsh. He clutches his knees closer to his chest, shoulders hunched. 

The Kvekian stares at him, tail twitching. His hands—long-fingered and lightly scaled, tipped with neatly filed claws—curl into fists at his sides.

“It was a job,” he says, his voice equally as soft.

“You fucking _killed him_.” Wooyoung lifts his gaze to U-Kwon’s face, glaring through suddenly burning eyes. His throat feels thick, his cheeks warm, but he refuses to let any tears fall. 

“As requested by the client,” U-Kwon says, slowly, patiently. 

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut.

“What would happen if you just killed me, too?” he whispers.

“Wooyoung.” Jongho’s voice is sharp.

“We wouldn’t get paid.” That’s the other bounty hunter, the blond humanoid. “The contract was for the kidnapper dead and you alive and unharmed. Any breach of that, and we don’t get our cut.”

“Then why didn’t you bring San with you?” Wooyoung snaps. He’s a bit surprised by how nasty he sounds, but he keeps going; it feels good to vent some of his anguish. “Don’t you need some fucking proof that you killed him?”

“Your grandfather agreed to proof of termination instead of delivery of the body, for a lower fee,” says U-Kwon. He sounds tired. “That’s why we didn’t bring your partner’s body with us. The shot was recorded, and we’ll show the recording to the client as proof of death.”

_Your partner’s body._

Wooyoung lets out a tremulous breath and buries his face into his arms. That phrase keeps echoing around in his head— _your partner’s body, your partner’s body_ —and Wooyoung loathes it. He doesn’t want to think of San as a body. He doesn’t want to think of San as _dead_. He doesn’t want to think of San as anything other than his partner, warm and alive and smiling and— 

“There’s a chance he might not be dead,” blurts the blond bounty hunter. 

Wooyoung’s heart stutters. U-Kwon sighs.

“W-what?” Jongho sounds breathless.

“Look, Taeil isn’t a fan of bloodshed, despite his tough face when he’s on a job,” the blond bounty hunter continues. “He’s one of the best bounty hunters in the system, but he hates killing people. He probably would’ve turned down this job outright if your grandfather weren’t paying us so much.”

“P.O…” The Kvekian sighs again, and Wooyoung lifts his head to see him pressing clawed fingertips to his temple, as though staving off a headache.

“He should know,” the humanoid says, gesturing helplessly at Wooyoung. “Look at him. He’s a mess. And as long as we get paid, who the hell cares whether he runs away again to rejoin his kidnapper? You saw the blaster setting, it wasn’t fully—”

“The cyborg,” U-Kwon says, fixing his black-lensed gaze on Wooyoung. “The one who was working on your partner before we left. He’s a medic?”

“Y-yeah,” Wooyoung breathes.

“He knows his shit?”

“Yeah, he does.”

U-Kwon nods stiffly. “Then… P.O’s right. He might be okay. We can’t _guarantee_ that,” he says, shoving an elbow into the blond humanoid’s side, making him wince, “but… there’s a chance.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Jongho asks.

“Because we’re not assholes,” says the blond bounty hunter, P.O. “And we’re not murderers. Or at least, we don’t want to be. We’re just doing our job.”

“Hell of a job,” Jongho mutters.

“Eat.” U-Kwon lightly kicks the bars of Wooyoung’s cell. “And get some rest. We have a long ride ahead of us. Might as well get used to each other.”

The Kvekian turns away, tail swinging gracefully, and after a moment of hesitation, P.O follows him. The door closes behind them with a _clang_ , leaving Wooyoung and Jongho alone once more.

“You believe them?” Wooyoung asks quietly, after a few moments of silence.

Jongho frowns down at the little box of food in his hands. It looks to Wooyoung like basic rations, some sort of grain and processed protein; not terrible, as prison food probably goes, but definitely not a first class meal.

“I don’t know yet,” Jongho says. He glances at Wooyoung, eyes shining in the dim light. “I want to.”

Wooyoung’s throat tightens, and he can only nod in return.

_He might be okay._

There’s no way to know whether the bounty hunters are telling the truth, just as there’s no way to know whether San truly is alive.

But Wooyoung would rather cling to a flimsy hope than drown anymore in misery believing that San is dead.

Silently, he reaches out with his cuffed hands, picks up the box of food, and starts to eat.

* 

Hongjoong is debating whether to risk Yeosang’s threatened wrath by sneaking out of the med-bay to the bridge when the med-bay door slides open and Mingi bursts into the room.

“We’re being followed again,” he says, breathless.

“ _What?_ ” Hongjoong lurches upright, sheets slipping from his shoulders. His aching head throbs in protest.

“Yunho doesn’t know much yet, just that there’s another ship out there,” Mingi says. “A different one this time.”

Hongjoong grits his teeth. His heart is racing already, and his empty stomach writhes with nerves.

“I need to see it,” he says, swinging his feet down to the cool floor of the med-bay. 

“You stay put,” Mingi says suddenly, and Hongjoong glances up in surprise, ready to argue, only to see Mingi leveling an angry finger at something over Hongjoong’s shoulder. Hongjoong glances back to see that San is also halfway out of bed, his face pinched against the pain.

“Yeosang said that Hongjoong can be on the bridge with supervision,” Mingi continues, “but he said _you’re_ not meant to be out of bed for at least another night. I’ve been given permission to tie you to the bed if I need to, and might I remind you that I am bigger than you are, and you’re injured, and I don’t want you getting any more hurt than you already are.”

San scowls. “I could knock you out in three seconds flat.”

“If you hadn’t just been shot, then yeah, you probably could,” Mingi says. “But unfortunately, you _have_ just been shot, so I have the advantage right now, and I’m not afraid to use it. Now get back into bed before I have to knock _you_ out.”

San hesitates, his lips pressed tightly together, and then he closes his eyes with a tight sigh and eases himself back onto the cot, to Mingi’s clear relief.

“We’ll keep you updated, I promise,” Hongjoong tells San, sliding his feet into the slippers someone was kind enough to place at his bedside.

San just flaps a weary hand at them, clearly sulking, and Hongjoong takes that as their dismissal.

Mingi sticks close to Hongjoong’s side as they make their way to the bridge, keeping one hand poised just behind Hongjoong’s elbow, ready to support him if he stumbles. Hongjoong’s head still throbs with every beat of his heart, and he feels weaker than he’d like, but he chalks that up to too much time in bed without a solid meal. He’s fine. He has to be.

“How big is the ship?” Hongjoong asks.

“Not as big as the last one,” Mingi says. “But Yunho still didn’t have a clear image of it when I left the bridge.”

“We’re getting a clearer image now, I think,” says Yeosang; he’s standing in the doorway to the bridge, watching them approach. “Feeling any better?”

“A bit,” Hongjoong lies, clapping Yeosang on the shoulder as he passes. He doubts Yeosang believes him.

Seonghwa is leaning over Yunho’s shoulder, both of them focused on the screens in front of the pilot’s seat, but Seonghwa glances back at Hongjoong when he hears him approach, and his eyes soften briefly.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’ll be fine,” Hongjoong says, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “What’ve we got?”

“Shit,” Yunho mutters, glaring at the scanner. “ _That’s_ a GU ship.”

“What?” Hongjoong shoves his way to Yunho’s side, staring down at the misshapen little blip on the radar. “Are you sure?”

“I spent years working on those things,” Yunho says grimly. “I’m sure.” He hits a few buttons on the console, and the view switches from the scanner to one of their rear cameras. “I’m going to see if I can get a clearer image of it so we can get an idea of what we’re in for.”

“Aren’t they too far away for that?” Mingi asks.

Yunho smiles slightly. “Don’t underestimate the powers of our _Treasure_. Just a bit of adjustment, and…” He trails off, adjusting the camera controls, and a dark image appears on the center screen. Hongjoong can just barely make out the GU’s insignia on the side of the ship, helpfully illuminated (per regulation) by subtle lights on the ship’s hull, and beneath that is an ID number.

“‘ _RBW 1-US_ ,’” Hongjoong reads off slowly. He glances at Yunho, whose eyes have gone wide. “Sound familiar?”

“Holy shit,” Yunho breathes, then leans forward over the console, pulling up the comms. “I’m sending them a call.”

Hongjoong grabs Yunho’s wrist before he can hit the comm button. “Wait,” he says. “You know them?”

“Trust me on this, Hongjoong,” Yunho says. “Please?”

Hongjoong hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering between Yunho and the ship on the screen. He glances at Seonghwa, who meets his eye with a frown, clearly also wary. Hongjoong thinks about the rest of his crew, how much time they’ve spent dodging GU officials… 

And then he meets Yunho’s wide, desperate eyes, and he lets go.

Yunho gives him a grateful half-smile, and then immediately slams a palm over the comm button and sends a signal to the ship on their tail. The comm buzzes with interference for a few terrible, anxious seconds, and then it clicks over as the _1-US_ takes their call.

“Keonhee? Keonhee, is that you?” Yunho blurts.

Silence on the other end, and then a deep, young sounding voice: “ _Yunho-hyung?_ ”

Yunho’s shoulders slump in relief. “Holy shit, Dongju, thank god. Is Keonhee with you? Can you put him on?”

“ _I—yeah… yeah, one sec, hold on._ ” 

“Explain quickly, please,” Seonghwa says quietly as the comm goes silent.

“I met Keonhee while we were both working for the GU,” Yunho said. “He was basically my minion for a bit after I got promoted, and we’ve been friends ever since. He was assigned to the _1-US_ a couple of weeks before you guys picked me up.”

“Is he in command of that ship?” Seonghwa asks.

“No, I don’t—”

“Raven.” Yeosang steps over, blinking his glowing eyes back into focus, a sign that he just resurfaced from searching his internal database. “The captain of the _1-US_ is Kim Youngjo, call sign Raven.” He raises an eyebrow at Yunho. “I don’t suppose Keonhee’s mentioned him?”

Yunho sighs, rubbing both hands over his face. He looks exhausted, to the point where Hongjoong suddenly wants nothing more than to bundle him into bed for a few days, but they can’t afford to lose their pilot, especially not right now.

“He has, but only in passing, really,” Yunho says, mostly into his palms. “He likes him. Says he looks intimidating but is fair.” He shrugs, letting his hands fall to his lap. “He has to have _some_ redeeming features, otherwise Keonhee wouldn’t stay under his command. He’s stubborn like that.”

The comm clicks back on then, and a new voice—lighter than the last, clearly anxious: “ _Yunho? You there?_ ”

Yunho pounces on the comm. “Keonhee, thank god. Why are you tracking us?”

“ _We, uh… we thought you were a bounty hunter ship, but clearly we were mistaken._ ”

Seonghwa steps forward, leaning over the comm. “You’re tracking the bounty hunters? The group led by a man called Taeil?” 

Another pause. “... _We are._ ” 

Seonghwa glances briefly at Hongjoong, jaw set, and then says into the comm, “Would you like some help with that?”

More silence, as Hongjoong stares at Seonghwa with wide eyes, and then: “ _What do you have in mind?_ ”

“We planted trackers on some of the bounty hunters about nine hours ago,” Seonghwa says. “We’ve been following them ever since.” He pauses, glancing at Hongjoong again, and Hongjoong, after a moment of hesitation, gives him a nod; he trusts that Seonghwa knows what he’s doing, even if the idea of teaming up with the GU sets Hongjoong’s every nerve on edge. “If you agree to help us catch them, we’ll give you their coordinates.”

Yet another pause, and then, “ _Hold on a second, please._ ” And the line clicks over to the gentle hum of the Galactic Union anthem, mid-chorus and grainy.

“You put us on _hold?_ ” Yunho yells at the comm, smacking his hand against the speaker.

“Hyung, are you sure about this?” Mingi asks, his arms folded tightly against his chest.

“You trust him, right?” Seonghwa asks Yunho.

“I—yeah. Yeah, I do,” Yunho says.

“Then yes, I’m sure,” Seonghwa says. “With San still out of commission, we could use the extra manpower.”

The line clicks back on, cutting off the anthem right before it was about to start over again.

“Treasure, _this is the_ 1-US. _Do you still copy?_ ” This voice is new, clipped and official sounding; definitely a commanding officer.

“We copy.” Hongjoong leans forward over the speaker now. “Who are we talking to now?”

“ _This is Captain Kim Youngjo. We are willing to work with you to track the bounty hunters, so long as we’re in agreement that the bounty hunters will be dealt with by official GU standards once they’ve been apprehended. Do you agree?_ ”

Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa, who shrugs slightly.

“Does that just mean that we’re agreeing not to kill them?” Yunho asks. Hongjoong gives him an exasperated look, and Yunho just lifts his palms, eyebrows raised.

“ _Basically, yes. Why are you tracking the bounty hunters, anyway?_ ”

Hongjoong hesitates. He considers lying, but any lie he can think of sounds more unbelievable than the last, so he decides to hell with it.

“They kidnapped two members of our crew,” Hongjoong says. “We’re taking them back.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment.

“ _Your crew members_ ,” says the captain. “ _Are their bounties due to crimes that would cause us any issues, if we were to let them go back with you?_ ”

“No,” Yeosang says immediately. “They’re private bounties. Neither was placed through legal means.”

Silence again, and then, “ _Fine. Your crew members will be returned to you, and the bounty hunters will be dealt with by us. Do you agree?_ ”

Hongjoong looks around at his crew once more, waiting for permission, and receives four nods. He lets out a low breath, feeling reckless and anxious and oddly hopeful.

“Agreed,” he says, leaning over the comm. “I’ll have Yunho send you the coordinates now.” He makes eye contact with Yunho, and gives him a rakish grin. “Let’s go catch these assholes.”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i know ravn's stage name isn't actually spelled as "raven" but ah well.
> 
> support oneus y'all, they're very good boys!)


	3. Chapter 3

Mingi knows he’s fidgeting, but he can’t help it. 

His body is electric with nerves and lack of sleep. His knuckles are sore from punching someone in the jaw for the first time in his life ( _he silently thanks Jongho for teaching him the proper way to make a fist back when they were on Elgor, but thinking about Jongho makes his heart hurt, so he files that thought away for later_ ) and the cut on his cheek stings beneath its bandage and his left temple is pounding with an impending headache and he can’t stop bouncing his right knee or gnawing on his bottom lip ( _it’s bled four times in the past hour_ ), but Hongjoong asked him to be here, so damnit, he will sit uncomfortably in this scarily neat meeting room on the much-too-large-for-comfort _RBW 1-US_ and act as unintimidated and imposing as he possibly can, because that’s what Hongjoong wants.

“Why do I have to go?” Mingi asked when Hongjoong requested that he be a part of the boarding party heading over to chat with Yunho’s GU friends.

Hongjoong just grinned at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, “Because you’re tall.”

So Yunho and Mingi flanked Hongjoong as they stepped onto the GU ship and were greeted by an equally tall and friendly guy in a crisp Jadecoat uniform with a wide smile and three bars on his sleeve ( _lieutenant?_ ), who turned out to be Yunho’s friend Keonhee. They were then led to a meeting room, where a frowning dark-haired man ( _the captain, apparently_ ) and a tall man with a severe expression ( _lieutenant commander, if Mingi remembered his rankings correctly_ ) stood waiting.

And now here they are, staring each other down across an extremely well-polished dark-wood table as Yunho and Keonhee make introductions, and Mingi tries not to vibrate out of his skin.

A hand comes down on his knee beneath the table, and Mingi glances gratefully at Hongjoong, whose gaze remains fixed on the GU captain. Yeosang agreed to remove the crown of bandages from Hongjoong’s head before they headed to the 1-US ( _“I don’t want to look like an invalid,” Hongjoong grumbled_ ), so Hongjoong looks a bit more like himself and a bit less like death now, which Mingi finds comforting.

“So how do the trackers work?” asks the GU captain after the round of introductions has been completed. Mingi was too stressed to actually catch the man’s name, but a gleaming golden nametag on the captain’s left breast pocket helpfully reads KIM YOUNGJO.

“They’re organic,” Yunho says, and then shifts his gaze to Mingi, because this is another reason he was invited along.

“Um, yeah,” Mingi says, sitting up straighter as the scary captain’s eyes settle on him. Mingi clenches a hand over Hongjoong’s on his knee, and Hongjoong turns his hand over so they’re palm to palm, lacing their fingers together and giving an encouraging squeeze. “I’ve been working on them for a while now with one of my other crewmates. They’re pollen-based, but largely synthesized. Yeosang helped me cultivate the spores, and we managed to breed what’s basically the equivalent of a biological microchip into each one. The chips can be tracked from our ship’s central system, as long as the _Treasure_ is within range of wherever the spores end up.”

“And how large is that range?” asks Youngjo.

“Ah…” Mingi glances at Hongjoong and Yunho, who both give him reassuring smiles, bless them. Mingi kind of wants to faint. “We’re… we’re not entirely sure. We haven’t really done a lot of long-distance testing with them yet.”

“But you _have_ done enough testing with them to realize they can be distributed via blaster shot?” That’s the Lt. Commander, whose nametag says KIM GEONHAK; his deep voice sounds rather amused.

“Th-that was easier to test,” Mingi stammers, remembering late nights with Yeosang, hidden away in the brig and shooting silenced blasters into pieces of scrap, trying not to get caught by Seonghwa. 

“What I’m hearing is that we might have a limited amount of time during which the bounty hunters’ ship is still within tracking range,” says Youngjo.

“Well… yeah,” Mingi says, probably crushing Hongjoong’s fingers. “Possibly.”

“So what’s the plan once we catch them?” Hongjoong asks, addressing the captain. “How many Jadecoats do you have on this ship?”

“More than enough.” Youngjo leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I’m assuming you’ll want to be a part of the boarding party, should we need to form one?”

“At least a few of us, yeah,” Hongjoong says with a frown. “We’re down some of our fighters, but we can still hold our own. And I want to get our crew back ourselves. Not that we don’t trust you or anything, it’s just…” He breaks off, making a face. “It’s kinda personal,” he grumbles.

Youngjo nods. “Fine. We’ll split a boarding party. We’ll hail their ship once we’re in range and give them the chance to surrender both themselves and their prisoners. Should that fail, we will send a boarding party to retrieve the prisoners and take the ship. If they decide to open fire on the _1-US_ , we will return it in kind.”

“Wait, so you’ll—you’ll shoot at their ship?” Yunho says, eyes wide.

Youngjo slants him a sharp look. “We were ordered to neutralize them, if they won’t come peacefully.”

“But what if Wooyoung and Jongho are still on the ship when they start attacking?” Mingi says.

“Opening fire will be a last resort,” Youngjo says. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“Make sure that it doesn’t,” Hongjoong snaps, and Mingi doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look so angry. There’s color high on his cheeks, and his eyes are fierce and shining beneath dark brows. “That’s our family on that ship. I won’t let them go down with a bunch of fucking bounty hunters just because you’re following orders.”

Youngjo’s lips tighten. “Listen, captain—” 

“We’ll do our best, okay?” Keonhee finally speaks up, voice placating. He rests a hand on his captain’s elbow. “Right, Youngjo? We shouldn’t need to attack the ship.”

The captain inhales, closing his eyes briefly.

“We’ll get your crew back in one piece, captain,” he says after a moment, sharp eyes fixed once again on Hongjoong, but Mingi can see a bit of softness there, now. Keonhee smiles and sits back, clearly satisfied. “None of us want to see any casualties here.”

Hongjoong nods tightly. “Thank you.”

“So what do you need from us?” Yunho asks.

“Arm yourselves.” Youngjo gets to his feet, and Keonhee and the Lt. Commander follow suit. “Be back on this ship and ready to board in six hours. Based on the coordinates you sent, that should be about when we catch up to the bounty hunters, if they continue at their current pace.” He adjusts his cuffs. “Do you have any questions?”

Of course Mingi has questions: Is he expected to be part of the boarding party? Will he have to fight again? Will his crew be safe? What if the bounty hunters don’t surrender? What if they can’t get Wooyoung and Jongho back?

But Hongjoong is standing now, too, and Mingi scrambles to follow suit as Hongjoong reaches across the table, offering his hand to the GU captain.

“I think we’re good on our end,” Hongjoong says. “We’ll be in touch if anything comes up.”

Youngjo eyes Hongjoong’s hand for a second, and then grasps it, which seems to satisfy Hongjoong.

“See you in six hours,” Youngjo says, and then he and his Lt. Commander turn to go, leaving Keonhee behind to escort the _Treasure_ crew back to their ship.

“So,” Keonhee says, smiling weakly. “That went well?”

*

“You’re not going.”

San freezes on the edge of the bed, halfway through shrugging a shirt on. He glances guiltily over his shoulder to see Seonghwa standing in the doorway, arms crossed and lips pressed into a disapproving line. 

“I feel fine,” San says, turning his back to Seonghwa to hide his grimace of pain as he finishes pulling on the shirt. Actually, his chest feels a bit like it’s on fire, and his ribs are definitely bruised, and his head is still fuzzy from whatever painkillers Yeosang has been ( _kindly_ ) pumping into him, but he’ll be damned if he lets any of that keep him from being a part of the boarding party they’re sending to get Wooyoung and Jongho back.

“Don’t lie to me, Choi San,” Seonghwa says, and San winces; that’s Seonghwa’s mother voice. “You just got _shot_. You’re not walking into another potential fight.”

“The wound is already pretty well healed thanks to whatever Yeosang put on it,” San says. “I’m covered in bandages, and it’s only my chest that hurts. My legs and arms are fine, and that’s all I’ll need in a fight, anyway.” He stands and turns to face Seonghwa, shirt still unbuttoned, arms spread to show just how healthy he is. “See? Totally fine.”

Seonghwa’s mouth turns down at the ugly bruising peeking out from beneath the bandages wrapped around San’s chest.

“I believe Yeosang’s offer to tie you to the bed is still in effect,” Seonghwa says.

San narrows his eyes. “I thought that only applied to Mingi.”

“I can get Mingi here in a second, and we have plenty of things to tie you up with.”

“Well, now it just sounds kinky.”

“ _San_ —”

“I have to get Wooyoung back,” San says quietly, and Seonghwa’s mouth snaps shut. San curls his hands into fists at his sides, scowling at the floor. “I’m supposed to look out for him. I’m supposed to _protect_ him, I promised him I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, and I failed; Jongho needed to—” San has to pause, pressing a hand to his chest, aching from more than just a blaster shot. “ _God_ , Jongho.” San lets out a shaky breath, his throat tight. “I have to bring them back, hyung. I have to at least try.”

Seonghwa sighs, and then he crosses the med-bay to draw San gently into his arms, carefully, protectively, holding San like he’s fragile and precious; it’s an unfamiliar sensation, but not unwelcome, and San’s heart clenches in his chest as he lifts his arms to return the hug, blinking back tears.

“We’ll get them back,” Seonghwa says, his voice soft. He pulls away slightly, and presses his forehead to San’s, tender and warm; it’s a comforting habit of his, San has found, one that makes San’s tummy flip pleasantly. “And…” Seonghwa pauses, his fingers curling into San’s hair, and then he lets out another sigh, eyes closing briefly. “You can be in the boarding party. But you’re to stay by me the whole time, okay? And I don’t care that it’s uncomfortable, you’re wearing body armor. I refuse to send you in there without the proper protection. For all we know, they still want you dead, and we’re not losing you again.”

San smiles slightly, curling forward to hide his face in Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

“Yes, hyung,” he whispers, and he feels Seonghwa squeeze him slightly, and it’s… nice. San never had siblings, growing up. He never really knew his family, never had anyone he could look up to or depend on. Warmth flutters in his chest as he buries his face in Seonghwa’s sweater, savoring the simple pleasure of being held.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to have a family.

*

“I think I have a plan,” Wooyoung says after a couple hours of silence, startling Jongho out of an anxious doze.

“Yeah?” Jongho asks, stretching his arms above his head. “What’ve you got?” There’s a crick in his neck from falling asleep against the bars of his cage, and he wishes vaguely that Yeosang were here to pop him back into alignment.

“These bounty hunters… they said they’re not assholes, right?” Wooyoung says.

“Right,” Jongho says.

Wooyoung nods slowly. “Then let’s test them on that. How good is your acting?”

“Not great. Why?”

“I’ll do the acting, then.” Wooyoung stretches his arms out in front of him, arching his back and flexing as much as his bound wrists will allow. “I was kind of hoping you’d be able to do it, since you’re the better fighter and all, but we can make this work.”

“Make _what_ work, hyung?” Jongho says, slightly exasperated.

“I’m gonna have a bad reaction to those drugs they gave us,” Wooyoung says with a wry smile, the first smile Jongho has seen from him since they woke up in these cages. It’s small, not as blindingly bright as Wooyoung’s smiles usually are, but it’s enough to make Jongho’s heart ease a bit. “I’ll act really sick, and we’ll see whether they’re assholes enough to let me suffer, or if they’ll open the cell to help me out. All you have to do is pretend to be super worried. Once they’ve opened the cell, then…” Wooyoung shrugs. “I’ll improvise, I suppose.”

“You sure you don’t want me to be the one to act sick?” Jongho asks. “You’re still cuffed, and you’ll have to fight your way out.”

“Nah, this might be better, actually,” Wooyoung says, looking thoughtful. “They’re wary of you, for good reason.” Jongho chest puffs up a bit at the praise, even though he’s heard it before; it somehow means more coming from a member of his crew than it ever did coming from one of his trainers back on Elgor. “They might not expect me to try and fight back, and I’ve had to act out shit like this before while doing cons w-with San.” The quick break in Wooyoung’s voice is barely noticeable, but Jongho still wants to reach for him. He silently curses the bars between them, not for the first time.

“You think you can get the keys off them before they figure it out?” Jongho asks.

Wooyoung smirks, a glint in his eye. “You bet your ass I can.”

Jongho grins back at him. “When was the last time they came by with food?”

“It’s been a few hours,” Wooyoung says. “I’d say we’re about due for a check-in, but you might want to start screaming, to speed up the process.”

“So we’ll get the keys, get out of these cages, and what, find an escape pod?” Jongho says.

Wooyoung shrugs. “You have a better plan?”

“Nope, this one’s simple,” Jongho says. “Let’s do it.”

*

It takes almost an hour of Jongho yelling himself hoarse before the door to the brig slams open and two of the bounty hunters enter, looking harried. Jongho clings to the bars of his cell and plasters the best distressed look he can muster onto his face ( _it’s honestly not as hard as he thought it would be, since all he has to do is picture San lying unconscious on the floor of the Treasure, Seonghwa bleeding at gunpoint, Wooyoung drugged and gagged in a bounty hunter’s arms, Hongjoong collapsing after Jongho’s fist catches him in the jaw—_ ).

“Please,” he says, and he thinks his voice is impressively shaky, for someone who can’t act very well. “Please, he just collapsed, I don’t—I can’t tell what’s going on, I think he might be sick?”

Luckily, one of the bounty hunters is the blond humanoid P.O. He curses under his breath and crouches just outside of Wooyoung’s cell, frowning through the bars at Wooyoung, who is slumped motionless on the floor. Wooyoung’s eyes are closed and his face is flushed ( _largely from him smacking his own cheeks, which Jongho tried very hard not to giggle at, because nothing about this situation should be giggle-worthy, but you know what, Jongho is overtired and stressed and he thinks his brain might be starting to misfire_ ) and he looks dead to the world and surprisingly ill.

“Shit,” P.O mutters, and then he turns to his companion, the bounty hunter with red curly hair, unmasked and anxious. “Kyung, give me the keys. Taeil will be pissed if one of our targets dies on route.”

“I dunno, man,” the red-headed humanoid, Kyung, says. “Are you sure he isn’t faking?”

“Do you want to risk it?” P.O says, turning to glare at Kyung. “He’s cuffed, it’ll be fine. Keys?”

Kyung makes a face, but fishes the keys from his pocket and hands them to P.O, who scrambles to unlock the door to Wooyoung’s cell.

Jongho watches as P.O kneels beside Wooyoung, taking Wooyoung’s head in his hands with surprising care. Wooyoung remains limp, biding his time, and Jongho gets silently to his feet, edging along the bars until he is behind the red-headed bounty hunter. 

“Kid, you okay?” P.O says, tapping his fingers gently against Wooyoung’s cheek. 

Jongho tenses, waiting, watching Wooyoung’s face closely. 

“You think he’s sick?” Kyung asks. 

“I can’t tell,” P.O says. He turns his gaze to Jongho, brow furrowed. “What happened, exactly? Did he just— _ghnk!_ ”

The bounty hunter is cut off by a sharp heel to the jaw, knocking his head back and sending him sprawling.

“Wha—” Kyung jerks forward, ready to help his comrade, but Jongho grabs him through the bars before he can get away, wrapping one arm around Kyung’s throat and yanking one of Kyung’s arms behind his back, wrenching it up against the bars at an angle that makes Kyung yell.

“You got him?” Wooyoung asks, already scrambling over to P.O’s motionless form and grabbing the keyring from beside P.O’s hand.

“Yeah,” Jongho grits out, grappling with Kyung. “Will you hold _still?_ ” he growls.

“Will _you?_ ” Kyung chokes out, reaching back to grab at Jongho, but Jongho ducks beneath his grasping hand.

“Got the keys!” Wooyoung crows. “Let’s get out of here, knock him out.”

“Sorry about this,” Jongho mutters, and then he slams Kyung’s head back against the bars hard enough to render him senseless, and lets the bounty hunter slump to the floor. He stoops to press a hand to the back of Kyung’s head, checking for blood, and is satisfied when his fingers come away dry.

Wooyoung, meanwhile, has closed and locked his own cell with P.O still splayed inside, out cold, and quickly turns his attentions to Jongho’s cell, unlocking the cell door.

“Uncuff me, please,” Wooyoung says, tossing Jongho the keys and holding out his cuffed wrists with a grin. He looks brighter than Jongho has seen him since the alarms first started blaring on the _Treasure_ , and Jongho can’t help but smile back at him.

The cuffs come off easily, and Wooyoung flings them with apparent glee into the far corner of the cell. 

“And now…” Jongho steps out of the cell and crouches beside the red-haired bounty hunter, frisking him for weapons. He comes up with a blaster, which he tosses to Wooyoung, and a stun baton for himself. He gets to his feet, grinning at Wooyoung. “Let’s blow this joint.”

*

“ _They’re in range_ ,” Mingi confirms over the intercom of the _1-US_ , his voice ringing clear in the pristine chrome bridge of the GU ship.

“I see them,” Lieutenant Seoho confirms from his seat in the pilot’s chair, sharp eyes fixed on the screen before him. He glances up through the gleaming front window of the ship, squinting at the stars. “There, Raven. Straight ahead.”

Captain Youngjo leans forward over the console. 

“Thank you, Mr. Song,” he says into the comm. “Your assistance is greatly appreciated.”

“ _No problem_ ,” Mingi replies, sounding a bit bemused. “ _Hongjoong? You there?_ ”

Hongjoong, who was standing a bit away from the GU officers in the bridge, steps forward. 

“I’m here,” he says. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“ _Seonghwa-hyung, Yunho, and Sani are on their way over. Yeosang’s taking over piloting the ship. Says he wants to be ready in case… well._ ”

Hongjoong lets out a low breath, closing his eyes. He gave his permission for San to join the boarding party ( _since he knew there wasn’t really a good way to prevent San from sneaking along to save Wooyoung, anyway, and Hongjoong would rather keep San in their sight than let him go in alone_ ), but the idea of sending San onto a ship full of bounty hunters who want to kill him still turns Hongjoong’s stomach. He understands Yeosang’s caution. It would be bad form to send their only medic into what could potentially be a dangerous fight.

“Okay,” Hongjoong says. “Thanks, Mingi. You’ve done well. We’ll take it from here.”

“ _Be safe, captain._ ”

Hongjoong glances at the GU officers on the bridge. Youngjo meets his gaze briefly, and gives a tight-lipped smile. Hongjoong can’t help but smile back, just as tentative, just as small.

“We will.”

“We’re locked,” says Seoho.

Youngjo nods, keeping his eyes on the bounty hunters’ ship through the front windows, and Keonhee keys something into the comms system. The call gives a couple of distant, chirping rings, and then it clicks over. Hongjoong holds his breath, waiting for a greeting of some kind, the smarmy voice of the lead bounty hunter come back to haunt Hongjoong’s dreams, but there’s only grainy silence.

“Rogue starship _N112-Mambo_ , this is Captain Kim Youngjo on the _RBW 1-US_ ,” Youngjo says, clipped and authoritative. “We have evidence that you are trafficking illegal prisoners through this system. You have ten minutes to surrender your ship and hand over the prisoners. If you fail to comply, we will board your ship with a warrant and take them by force.”

Hongjoong leans down close to Keonhee.

“Do you actually have a warrant?” he whispers.

Keonhee fixes him with a wide-eyed look, apparently baffled that Hongjoong would even ask, and whispers back, “Of course we do, captain. We’re GU.”

“So now we just… wait?” Hongjoong asks. The door to the bridge slides open behind him, and he glances back to see Seonghwa, Yunho, and San step into the bridge, decked out in dark armor and heavily armed. San’s hair is slicked back, and there’s more color in his cheeks than there was the last time Hongjoong saw him, and Hongjoong has to swallow past the lump in his throat, biting back the brief, ridiculous urge to cry in relief. San looks like his old self, despite the way Seonghwa keeps a subtle hand poised just beside his elbow, ready to steady him if he stumbles.

Hongjoong smiles at his crew, his heart swelling. They look strong. 

They’ll be fine.

“Don’t worry, sir,” Keonhee says to Hongjoong. “I doubt the bounty hunters will respond.” He grins, sharper than Hongjoong has seen from him before. “We’ll be boarding soon.”

*

Wooyoung crouches low as he and Jongho hurry through the dark halls of the bounty hunter’s ship, heading in a hopefully-vaguely-escape-poddish direction. It’s only been about ten minutes since they broke free from their cells, and Wooyoung’s nerves are jangling, expecting an ambush around every corner. His palm is sweaty around the grip of the blaster in his hand, and he keeps looking over his shoulder for Jongho, desperate not to lose him.

“Left or right?” Wooyoung hisses when they come to another fork, and Jongho whispers, “Right?”, so right Wooyoung turns, ducking past closed doorways, praying that no one happens to exit one of these rooms just as he and Jongho scurry past.

“Maybe we should find a control room of some sort so we can find a ship map,” Jongho whispers.

“How do you expect us to be able to find a control room when we can’t even find the escape pods?” Wooyoung hisses back.

“... Okay, fair,” Jongho says. “What about—?”

But Wooyoung never finds out what Jongho’s next suggestion is, because at that moment, the all-ship intercom crackles to life, and an authoritative, unfamiliar voice speaks out: 

“ _Rogue starship_ N112-Mambo, _this is Captain Kim Youngjo on the_ RBW 1-US. _We have evidence that you are trafficking illegal prisoners through this system._ ”

Wooyoung freezes and glances back at Jongho, eyes wide.

 _GU?_ he mouths, and Jongho spreads his hands helplessly and mouths back, _Maybe?_

“ _You have ten minutes to surrender your ship and hand over the prisoners_ ,” continues the voice over the intercom. “ _If you fail to comply, we will board your ship with a warrant and take them by force._ ”

The intercom dies out with a final crackle, and then the ship is silent again, but for the dull whirring of distant engines and the hum of the lighting units on the ceiling.

“I think… I think that was the GU,” Wooyoung breathes. His grip tightens on his blaster.

“Is that good or bad?” Jongho asks.

“I have no idea, but I don’t really want to find out.” Wooyoung reaches out to snag Jongho’s hand and tugs him forward, back into a half-jog. “Come on. Let’s keep moving.”

*

Hongjoong absently starts biting his thumbnail as the entire bridge of the _1-US_ waits in silence for any response from the bounty hunter’s ship. It’s been five minutes, and still nothing. Hongjoong can see the ship looming in the distance, that same hulking shape that haunted the _Treasure_ for hours on end. Wooyoung and Jongho are on that ship, somewhere. They’re in sight, they’re in _reach_ , and yet now they have to _wait_ , and Hongjoong wants nothing more than to steal a shuttle and just— 

A gentle hand presses his hand down and away from his lips.

“That’s a bad habit, captain,” Seonghwa says softly. 

Hongjoong scowls at him, petulantly shoving both of his hands into his coat pockets, but there’s barely any heat to it.

“Let me have some pleasures, at least,” Hongjoong grumbles. He eyes Seonghwa up and down, taking in the blasters holstered at his hips, the severe lines of sturdy black armor over his chest and back. “You’re all set?” he says.

“As much as we’ll ever be,” Seonghwa says, his eyes on the bounty hunter’s ship.

“You’ll keep an eye on San?” Hongjoong’s voice is low, meant only for the two of them.

Seonghwa glances at San, standing over by Yunho. “He’ll never be out of my sight.”

Hongjoong nods, satisfied. If anyone can keep San safe, it’s Seonghwa.

“Sir, we’re getting a response,” Keonhee says, sitting forward suddenly to tap at the comms console. 

There’s a brief chirp of interference, and then a familiar voice that makes Hongjoong’s blood boil.

“1-US, _this is the_ N112-Mambo. _Your message has been received and denied. These prisoners are ours by right and contract. We will not be giving them up to you or anyone else._ ”

Youngjo’s jaw clenches in irritation. “You are failing to comply to our request, then?”

“ _And offering for you to shove it, too, if it please you._ ”

Youngjo is barely fazed. “So be it. You have been warned. Prepare to be boarded.” He slams a palm down on the comm to end the broadcast, making Keonhee wince, and then turns to the other officers on the bridge, including the crew of the _Treasure_. “You heard me. Boarding parties, get to your shuttles. Seoho, lock that ship in place. We’re in for a bit of a fight, and I don’t need them trying to jump to escape.” The officers scurry to follow his orders, and Youngjo turns his gaze to Hongjoong. “You ready?”

Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa, who gives a tight nod. Yunho flashes him a lazy salute, and San quirks his lips into a brief little smile, which Hongjoong returns.

“We’re ready,” he tells Youngjo.

Youngjo gives him a smile that looks more like a grimace. “Then let’s go.”

*

The next intercom message that Wooyoung and Jongho hear is a different voice, clearer than the last, as though being broadcasted from somewhere much closer.

“1-US, _this is the_ N112-Mambo. _Your message has been received and denied. These prisoners are ours by right and contract. We will not be giving them up to you or anyone else._ ”

“I don’t know what else they expected,” Jongho mutters, and Wooyoung can’t help but agree with him, really.

They’ve made it closer to the bowels of the ship, and Wooyoung has a feeling they’ll find the escape pods soon, or maybe even a shuttle, if they’re lucky. Rooms are fewer and farther between, and luckily—incredibly—they haven’t seen a single other soul in the whole twenty minutes they’ve been running about, so Wooyoung finds himself actually starting to feel hopeful. Maybe… maybe they can actually do this. Maybe they can actually get _out_.

“ _You are failing to comply to our request, then?_ ” That’s the clipped voice from before, sounding more and more to Wooyoung like a GU officer used to getting his way.

“ _And offering for you to shove it, too, if it please you._ ”

“Jeez, he’s gonna get us shot at,” Wooyoung mutters, although there’s a part of him ( _the con-man part of him, the part that’s been dodging the GU ever since he fled Mars and started running heists with San_ ) that admires the asshole bounty hunter’s balls.

“If they know we’re here, maybe they won’t just shoot the ship into pieces?” Jongho whispers.

“We can only hope,” Wooyoung says, then jerks his head forward, around yet another corner, heading for a set of lifts that look promising. “Come on. This way.”

It takes them a few minutes of anxious waiting for one of the lifts to come, and Wooyoung prays that the bounty hunters don’t have enough people on the ship to have someone monitoring what the lifts are doing. It would be just their luck to have a bounty hunter realize _hey, one of the lifts just moved on its own, isn’t that weird?_ And catch them just as they thought they might get away.

The lift finally arrives, and just as the doors open to an empty car and Wooyoung breathes out a sigh of relief, the entire ship jerks, making them stumble. Jongho automatically grabs for Wooyoung’s arm, keeping them both on their feet.

“The fuck was that?” Wooyoung blurts, blinking at the ship around them.

“I think the ship got locked,” Jongho says, also staring up at the ceiling, as though trying to listen for any other clues as to what might be happening. “Must be a sign that the GU wasn’t lying about boarding, which means they could be here any minute. I feel like we should be gone by then, don’t you?”

“Most likely,” Wooyoung says, and tugs Jongho into the lift car, slamming the door close button before even taking a proper look at the other options on the control. 

“Hangar!” Jongho crows, and jabs his finger on the button labeled as such. The lift shudders into motion, heading down, and Wooyoung lets out a shaky breath.

 _This is going too well_ , he thinks, but refuses to say out loud. Instead, he closes his eyes and thinks about taking this one step at a time: first, find a shuttle; next, figure out how to make the shuttle fly; then, fly the heck out of this goddamn ship and try to find the _Treasure_ ; and then… 

“Pray that San’s there,” Wooyoung whispers, barely audible, and opens his eyes.

The lift judders to a stop after a minute or so of tense silence, letting out an obnoxious _dding_ , and the doors open to a huge, dimly lit room that is clearly some sort of hangar or docking area.

“Holy shit, we did it,” Jongho breathes, stepping forward carefully. He keeps one arm out, trying to keep Wooyoung behind him, stun baton at the ready.

“Where is everybody on this goddamn ship?” Wooyoung mumbles as they step out of the lift and into the cool, open air of the hangar, but before Jongho can respond, the main docking door roars to life on the far side of the hangar and begins to lift, trailing a sheer, shimmering atmo-barrier behind it, keeping out the void of space beyond.

“You had to say it,” Jongho grumbles, grabbing Wooyoung’s wrist and tugging him behind a large stack of fuel cells, where they both crouch, listening anxiously as multiple shuttle engines whirr closer, clearly coming in for a landing. Wooyoung winces at the subtle _thud_ of landing gear touching down onto metal grating, and it’s not long before voices join the hubbub of engines roaring to a halt and boots thumping against metal.

Wooyoung glances at Jongho, and Jongho’s wide, worried eyes match his thoughts exactly: _There have to be dozens of them._

Wooyoung lifts a finger to his lips, probably unnecessarily, but Jongho nods tightly and squeezes Wooyoung’s wrist, and although it’s a bit painful, Wooyoung actually welcomes the contact. He can’t make out any of the voices, but it sounds like a few voices are definitely calling out orders, and a few sets of boots are already running for the lifts and the stairs, too close to their hiding place for Wooyoung’s comfort.

Silently, Wooyoung beckons for Jongho to follow him, and they slip carefully around to the other side of the fuel cells, away from the lifts and, hopefully, any prying eyes. Wooyoung risks a brief glance towards the shuttles and sees three ships, at least ten uniformed Jadecoat officers, and a few men in black, but that’s the only look he gets before Jongho tugs him down with a warning hiss.

“Someone’s coming,” Jongho whispers, pulling Wooyoung close to his side, his thumb poised on the trigger of his stun baton.

Wooyoung’s blood turns to ice. “Can we run?”

Jongho shakes his head, lips pressed together. “Maybe… Maybe we should try being honest, to start out. They might help us.”

“They’re the _GU_ , Jongho, they _hate_ us—”

“They’re supposed to help those in need, though, right? Well.” Jongho gestures between the two of them with the stun baton, making Wooyoung a little nervous. “We’re in need. I say we give it a shot.”

Wooyoung opens his mouth to argue again, because honestly, who raised this strong, hopeful child, but then a voice calls out from behind them, just beyond the stack of fuel cells:

“Freeze! Drop your weapons!”

Wooyoung jerks in surprise, and glances over his shoulder to see two Jadecoat officers standing with blasters aimed at them, eyes sharp and meaning business.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” Wooyoung yells, throwing his hands into the air, blaster and all, all thoughts of arguing fleeing his mind. “We’re prisoners, we were kidnapped!”

The taller Jadecoat narrows his eyes at them over the barrel of his blaster.

“That sounds like something a bounty hunter would say to get the jump on me and run away,” he says, and Wooyoung’s stomach sinks, but then the man lowers his blaster and breaks into a wide smile. “Good thing your captain showed us your pictures before we boarded.”

“Wait, what?” Wooyoung blinks, lowering his hands a bit.

“Hongjoong-hyung’s here?” Jongho says, sounding breathless.

“Technically he’s back on the command ship, but yeah,” says the shorter Jadecoat, also lowering his gun to his side.

“Hold up.” Wooyoung holds out a hand, keeping Jongho behind him; this seems a bit too good to be true, and he refuses to be tricked back into a cell. “If you know our captain, then you should’ve met the rest of our crew, right?”

The taller Jadecoat frowns. “Well, yeah.”

“What’s our pilot’s name?” 

The tall Jadecoat looks confused for a second, and then his face clears as he starts to understand what Wooyoung is doing.

“Ah,” he says with a smile. “Your pilot is Jung Yunho.”

“And our first mate?”

“Oh, um…” The Jadecoat’s brow furrows. “We didn’t really talk much, so I don’t remember his name, but it’s Park something, right?” 

“Dark hair, pretty face, a little scary?” adds the shorter officer, and then he points at the shuttles with a mischievous smile. “And… right over there?”

Wooyoung’s heart lurches in his chest, and his breath stutters.

“Seonghwa-hyung—” he says, head whipping towards the shuttles, but before he can get a good look, someone yells, and a shot fires in the hangar, and all hell breaks loose as the bounty hunter crew bursts through the stairway door, guns blazing and aimed at the Jadecoat troops.

“Shit,” the taller Jadecoat mutters, and then, to Wooyoung and Jongho, “Stay hidden.” All hint of mirth is gone from his face as he clicks off the safety on his blaster. “Lieutenant, keep an eye on them. Don’t let the bounty hunters know they’re here.”

“Yes, sir,” says the shorter Jadecoat, the lieutenant ( _Seoho, according to his nametag_ ), as he takes up a defensive stance between Wooyoung and Jongho and the fight breaking out across the hangar, a blur of laser blasts and fists.

The taller Jadecoat bolts to join the fray, and Wooyoung desperately tries to peer over the stack of fuel cells to see what’s happening, to catch any sight of Seonghwa ( _is he really here, is he fighting, is he in danger, he needs to_ see—), but Jongho tugs him down before he can get a good look.

“Hyung, we shouldn’t risk—”

“YAH!” An accented voice calls out, and Lieutenant Seoho ducks a blaster shot, grimacing.

“Drop your weapon!” Lieutenant Seoho orders, aiming his blaster at U-Kwon, but the Kvekian keeps his gun leveled at the Jadecoat, sharp eyes ( _golden and slit-pupiled, apparently; this is the first time Wooyoung has seen him unmasked_ ) narrowed and pointed teeth bared.

“You’re hiding them, aren’t you?” U-Kwon says. “Why else would you be hanging over here while your partner ran off to fight?”

“I said,” Lieutenant Seoho says, voice dark, “drop. Your weapon.”

U-Kwon snarls and fires off another shot, which the lieutenant dodges again before firing off a shot of his own, which barely catches the edge of U-Kwon’s long dark coat as the Kvekian darts out of the way.

“Goddamnit, this job wasn’t supposed to be such a hassle!” U-Kwon snaps, whirling to fire again, and Wooyoung can’t stand it; he reaches out and snags Lieutenant Seoho by the back of his dark green coat, tugging him behind the stack of fuel cells just as the laser shot rips through the air.

“We can help,” Wooyoung says when the Jadecoat officer stares at him with a weirdly adorable befuddled expression. 

“But—” 

“I’m probably a better fighter than you, anyway,” Jongho says, not unkindly, as he pats the lieutenant amicably on his shoulder and gets to his feet, stun baton buzzing.

“Shit—” U-Kwon says as soon as he catches sight of Jongho, raising his blaster again, so Wooyoung lurches to his feet, lifts his own blaster, and takes aim at U-Kwon, but before he shoots ( _P.O’s voice coming back to him, “we’re just doing our job”_ ), he jerks his arm just enough for the blast to catch U-Kwon in the shoulder instead of the chest. The Kvekian goes down with a shout, but he’ll live. It’s the most Wooyoung can do.

“Okay, well, uh…” Lieutenant Seoho gets to his feet, too, clearing his throat, then gestures towards the fray. “Shall we, then?”

Wooyoung turns towards the shuttles, steeling himself, and then there, further down the hangar, slightly apart from the main fray of battling bounty hunters and Jadecoats, stands San.

All of the air leaves Wooyoung’s lungs. His arm falls to his side, blaster hanging from limp fingers. 

“San-ah,” he breathes, barely audible. 

San hasn’t turned towards him yet; he’s standing beside Seonghwa and Yunho near the lifts ( _and if Seonghwa and Yunho are here, too, then that means they’ve truly come for them, the_ Treasure _is finally_ here) and there’s a blaster in his hand aimed at Taeil, who’s trying to back slowly away. San’s chin is lifted and his eyes are narrowed, beautiful profile on display, and Wooyoung can’t breathe.

Numb, he barely registers that he’s started walking until he’s woven his way through the brawl—not once taking his eyes off San, terrified that if he loses sight of him, he might disappear—and it’s only when he’s mere steps away that San finally turns his head and spots him, eyes going wide.

“Wooyoung—” he says, in the voice Wooyoung thought he might never hear again, and then Wooyoung closes the distance between them, letting his blaster clatter to the ground, and grabs San into a tight hug, pressing as close as he dares, burying his face in the crook of San’s neck and breathing in. San hisses in pain, and Wooyoung automatically tries to pull away.

“Sorry, you’re hurt, I—” he says, heart in his throat, but San tugs him back in, letting his own blaster fall, arms wrapping around Wooyoung immediately and clutching just as tightly, and Wooyoung feels something inside of him slot into place as he realizes at last that he didn’t actually lose this. He takes in a tremulous breath and buries one hand in San’s hair, fisting the other hand into the soft material at the back of San’s shirt. He wants nothing more than to melt into San and never let go.

“I’m so sorry,” San whispers, for Wooyoung’s ears only, his breath soft and tremulous against Wooyoung’s hair, his fingers squeezing the nape of Wooyoung’s neck. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” 

Wooyoung curls closer, giving a tight shake of his head. Distantly, he notes that Jongho has joined them, he and Seonghwa and Yunho forming a small black-clad barrier between the two of them and the rest of the fight.

“Please don’t,” Wooyoung whispers, his voice muffled against San’s neck.

He hears San swallow, and San’s arms get tighter, somehow, strong fingers curling against Wooyoung’s back. Wooyoung feels the gentle press of lips to his temple, and it’s so tender and affectionate and _real_ that his throat tightens with unshed tears. 

“Do not fucking do that to me again,” Wooyoung says softly, squeezing San, willing his voice not to break. “I don’t even care that I ended up here, okay, I just—you are not allowed to die on me, do you understand? I can’t lose you. I can’t. I’ve lost so much already, and if I lost you, too, I’d just—”

San lets out a choked laugh. “I thought I’d lost _you_ ,” he says, running a hand up and down Wooyoung’s back in firm, soothing strokes. “Let’s just not do any of this ever again, okay?”

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes closed, nuzzling further into the crook of San’s neck, and gives a small nod that he knows San will feel.

A gentle hand presses against Wooyoung’s hair, and he raises his head to see Seonghwa beside them. He flashes Wooyoung a warm smile, but only briefly, his jaw tense.

“We can’t stay here,” he says, and Wooyoung realizes that Seonghwa’s blaster is raised and aimed at Taeil, taking over where San left off.

“Look, this is really touching,” Taeil calls over to them, his arms crossed over his chest, apparently unfazed by the blaster trained on him. “But you know I can’t let you take them back, right?” His eyes shift briefly to San, brow furrowing. “And you’re supposed to be much more dead than this. At least, like. Seventy percent more dead.” He sighs and reaches behind his back, coming out with a large blaster, the same one he used on the _Treasure_. “I really didn’t want to have to do this, but…” He shrugs and lifts the gun. “We need our cut.”

Wooyoung’s heart stutters in his chest at the sight of that blaster, and he grips San’s arm tightly, tugging him behind him. At the same time, Jongho comes to stand beside Wooyoung, using his body as a shield between San and the blaster.

“Jongho—” Wooyoung stares as Jongho sets his jaw, reaching back with one arm to herd San more firmly behind him.

“We won’t let him touch you,” Jongho tells San in a quiet, firm voice, and Wooyoung could’ve kissed him. “They need us alive and unharmed,” Jongho continues, glaring at Taeil. “He won’t shoot through us to get to you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, at this point,” Taeil mutters, barely audible over the fight going on around them. 

A strong hand latches around Wooyoung’s elbow, and Wooyoung glances over to see Yunho standing beside him, blaster raised and eyes narrowed.

“Try us,” Yunho snarls, angrier than Wooyoung has ever seen him, and Taeil glares, opens his mouth to say something else— 

—and then jolts, eyes blowing wide, and collapses to the ground, motionless.

Wooyoung blinks at him, and then blinks at the tall Jadecoat officer standing over Taeil’s unconscious form, stun baton still humming ominously.

“Is that all of you?” asks the Jadecoat, addressing Seonghwa.

“Y-yes,” Seonghwa says with a nod, one hand tightly gripping Jongho’s arm, the other locked on San’s shoulder. “Thank you, Lt. Commander.”

“Call me Geonhak,” the Jadecoat says. “And get out of here, will ya? Keonhee!” he hollers suddenly, making Wooyoung jump. “Take them back to the _1-US_!”

“Yessir, Lt. Commander!” The taller Jadecoat who recognized Wooyoung and Jongho behind the fuel cells steps up, saluting, then gestures for the crew of the _Treasure_ to follow him. His lip is bleeding, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. “Come on, I’ll take you back on the _Valkyrie_.”

“Hyung,” Wooyoung says in a hushed tone to Seonghwa. “Can we trust them?”

“We have thus far and it’s been fine,” Seonghwa says grimly, and then nods tightly to the Jadecoat officers. “We’re coming.”

They all sprint for the shuttle after Keonhee, keeping low to avoid notice and rogue blaster shots. Wooyoung’s heart is racing somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, and he refuses to release San’s hand even after they’ve all stumbled up the walkway and into the shuttle, the door sliding shut behind them as soon as they’re all inside.

“Hang on,” Keonhee says, already in the pilot’s seat and preparing to launch.

Wooyoung’s entire body is tense with nerves; he’s practically trembling, his breath coming in shallow gasps, and he stares out the front window of the shuttle as the ship launches, watches as the atmo-barrier parts around the _Valkyrie_ , as the stars come into focus and the engines rumble beneath them and they shoot forward, leaving the bounty hunters’ ship behind.

*

“Captain.”

Hongjoong glances up from his nervous pacing, meeting Youngjo’s eye. The Jadecoat captain has a small comm in his hand.

“Keonhee has your crew,” Youngjo says. “All of them.”

“They—he what?” Hongjoong stutters, breathless, his ears ringing slightly, because it can’t be that easy, right? They can’t just…? “He has Wooyoung and Jongho? And they’re not—no one got—?” 

“Keonhee has all of them on a shuttle, captain.” Youngjo’s lips curve into a small smile. “Including the prisoners. They’re fine, and they’ll be on the _Treasure_ in a few minutes. You might want to inform the rest of your crew.”

Hongjoong lets out a shuddering breath, his shoulders dropping heavily as relief overwhelms him.

“Oh,” is all he manages for a moment. The bridge of the _1-US_ starts to go a bit gray around him. His ears are definitely ringing, and he should probably sit down, but his crew is coming and they’re _safe_ and _alive_ and he has to get back on the _Treasure_ right now, he has to _see them_ , but— 

“What about the bounty hunters?” he asks, snapping suddenly back into mission mode.

“We have it handled,” Youngjo says. He’s standing just behind the officer who took over the comms console when Keonhee joined the boarding party; he puts a hand on the officer’s shoulder and leans down slightly to address him, eyeing the hulking _N112-Mambo_ through the windows of the bridge. “Hwanwoong, have you been in contact with Geonhak?”

The officer nods. “He says the leader has been neutralized and cuffed, and the others are getting rounded up as we speak. Apparently two of them were already locked into their own holding cells.” The officer—Hwanwoong—turns slightly to raise an eyebrow at Hongjoong. “I’m assuming that was your crew’s doing?”

Hongjoong shakes his head, bemused, still feeling a bit light-headed. “I mean, that does sound like something they’d do.”

“I also took the liberty of calling ahead to the _Treasure_ ,” Hwanwoong says. “Mingi is ready to meet the shuttle, and someone called Yeosang is coming over to fetch you back to your ship.”

“What do you mean, ‘fetch me’?” Hongjoong says. “I’m fine—”

“You’re running on pure adrenaline, captain.” Yeosang bows respectfully as he enters the bridge, but he’s smiling at Hongjoong as he approaches. “And you still have a concussion. I’m here to make sure you actually make it back to the _Treasure_ in one piece.”

Hongjoong makes a face at him, but doesn’t fight when Yeosang gently takes him by the elbow.

“Youngj—er, Captain Kim,” Hongjoong says, turning to face the GU captain again. Youngjo straightens, arching a brow, and Hongjoong flushes; he’s basically of equal standing with this man, there’s no reason he should feel so unsettled by him, but every time Youngjo looks at him, Hongjoong feels six years old and in trouble. Hongjoong lifts his chin and gives the captain a respectful nod. “Thank you. For all your help, and for letting us join the mission. It, um…” Hongjoong breaks off, suddenly uncomfortable; he has no idea how to properly thank Youngjo for this. How do you tell someone in an un-embarrassing way that you basically owe them everything?

Hongjoong clears his throat. “It, uh… it means more than you know. And I’ll never forget it.”

Youngjo’s eyes are sharp as he watches Hongjoong, and Hongjoong sees his hand tighten on Hwanwoong’s shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly.

“I think I get it,” Youngjo says quietly. “And you’re welcome, captain. You helped us, as well. Now go see to your crew. We’re almost done here.”

“Right, I—thanks,” Hongjoong says.

Yeosang starts to tug him away, bowing again (and trying to subtly push Hongjoong to do the same), but Hongjoong pauses, a sudden thought coming to him.

“Wait, you’re not going to turn around and arrest us, too, right?” Hongjoong asks warily, narrowing his eyes at Youngjo.

Youngjo slants him a flat glance. “Have you done anything recently that would merit your arrest?”

Hongjoong actually thinks about that for a second, which probably isn’t really the best way to establish their innocence, so Yeosang hurriedly bundles him away towards the _Treasure_.

“We really ought to be going now, thanks for all your help!” Yeosang chirps as he half-leads, half-carries Hongjoong to the ship. 

Hwanwoong grins and waves at him in response, and unless Hongjoong is seeing things, even Youngjo’s lips twitch slightly into something a bit warmer than a smirk.

Maybe Keonhee is right, after all; the Raven isn’t too bad. 

*

Wooyoung stares out the front window of the _Valkyrie_ , watching as the familiar dark silhouette of the _Treasure_ comes into view. Anxiety still sings through his veins, a quiet hum, waning more and more the further they get from the bounty hunters’ ship, but his back still feels itchy, as though expecting to be struck by a blaster shot at any moment.

San’s arms settle around Wooyoung’s waist from behind, and San rests his chin on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, tracing one hand gently over Wooyoung’s side. “We’ve got you.”

Wooyoung inhales shakily, nodding, and leans back against San, turning his head so he can press his cheek softly to San’s.

Seonghwa, meanwhile, steps up to Jongho, brow furrowed, and punches him soundly in the arm.

“ _Ow_ , hyung!” Jongho pouts, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”

“That was a stupid thing to do,” Seonghwa says, jabbing an accusatory finger into Jongho’s chest, and then he reels Jongho in by the lapels of his coat and traps him in a tight hug. “But I’m very proud of you,” he continues, voice muffled against Jongho’s shoulder. “And I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“You know, there’s a more streamlined way to do this,” Yunho says, and he then proceeds to hook his hands around both Wooyoung’s elbow and Jongho’s bicep and forces all five of them into a squished group hug.

Wooyoung lets out a little laugh and closes his eyes, basking in the warmth of his crewmates huddled around him. San’s face is warm pressed against his cheek, and he can feel him smiling. Yunho flashes Wooyoung a warm grin and leans forward briefly to press his forehead to Wooyoung’s, firm and comforting. Jongho is attempting to squirm away from them all, but Wooyoung can see him biting back a laugh, and Seonghwa’s face is still buried against Jongho’s shoulder; Wooyoung suspects he’s trying not to cry.

“We should be arriving in about three minutes,” says Keonhee from the pilot’s seat, sounding faintly amused, and Wooyoung nods, letting out another shaky sigh.

They’re safe.

San is alive. His crew is here, and waiting for him back on the _Treasure_.

The GU are taking care of the bounty hunters.

It’s over.

They’re going home.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the amount of temptation for me to have keonhee say “let’s go lesbians” to the crew of the treasure when they were running for the shuttle was _overwhelming_ i tell you. 
> 
> also that last group hug on the shuttle was 1000% inspired by [this fansign moment](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EPyiOx5W4AIHYRM?format=jpg&name=large), thanks yunho. and boarding party ATEEZ looks are definitely [Win](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EP-d33cWsAEwxR8?format=png&name=900x900) stage [looks](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a169e7f90d6bc60669e575c2195ccab7/1a15ad7ae9278681-3d/s640x960/48814d2ac622914049b1c59053740d8468d5c570.jpg), bc i'm weak.
> 
> also also the “N112-Mambo” pun is one of the wittiest things i have ever written, i will never top it.
> 
> THANKS FOR READING THIS, LOVELIES ♡

**Author's Note:**

> come yell with me about things on [twitter](https://twitter.com/aintitnifty), if you like~


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